Cruelty

By Alberto Aranda de la Gala

The madness, delirium and insanity of two serial killers with the same goal and different methods.

Go inside two disturbed minds and you will understand their motives.

When you feel rejected by others and look for a way out to change everything, you act. Is murder the best way to do it? Ian and Daniel thought so. But when remorse and doubt come, everything changes.

Alberto Aranda goes into the darkest thoughts of a sick mind. 

Join to this journey that should never have happened. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Jun 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393943976

Book preview

Cruelty

By Alberto Aranda

Translation by C. Abraham O. Bernón

This book is especially dedicated to my family, they are the ones who, unconditionally, still believe on my work.

To my great friend Alexander Castillo, editor and designer of my covers. He always captures the exact essence of all my works.

To all my readers, you are the most important cornerstone and you encourage me to continue with my greatest passion, writing.

THANKS A LOT

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A.A.

INTRODUCTION

Most of serial killers have mental condition records. It is well known that they were frequently victims of abuse during their childhood, whether physically, sexual or psychological, it’s always possible to find a relation between their childhood abuse and the crimes they commit.

It is frequently noticed that these subjects present a feeling of unsuitability, uselessness or disability.

The murders they commit usually grant them a sensation of power and are frequently used as revenge, vengeance or assertion of their historic frustration feeling.

These subjects nullify the capacity of feeling empathy about others’ suffering. They are early diagnosed, like a rule, as psychopaths or sociopaths, terms that are euphemistically renamed by psychologists in the present as antisocial personality disorders.

The fantasy element in serial killers’ development is extremely important. They daydream compulsively with domination, submission and killing. With very specified elements and ways that appeared in their crimes afterwards.

Many experts claim that once the serial killers begin with their criminal acts, they can´t stop and if they do, they are going to relapse for sure.

It isn’t totally true as well that such criminal behaviours are necessarily the outcome from family poverty history or social promiscuity.

Generally serial killers use to have a sexual motivation, therefore, they use an erotic lust and torture to get pleasure in all levels, either mutilating or killing after a long period of time.

There are some cases in which they can include sexual activities such as the clothes removal, maintaining intercourse after the homicide and they can even insert objects into the body holes.

Once the criminals have found the ideal victim for their shortcomings and necessities, they harass them or perform predatory behaviours before to realize their criminal fantasy on them. There could be potential victims overlooked by criminals because they do not fulfil their basic psychopathologic necessities.

The purpose of a fantasy is the total control of the victim, while a sexual assault could be used as a vehicle of such control. Torture is used as a tool to degrade, humiliate and submit.

The mind of a killer is and always will be an unexplained and unexplored field...        

INDEX

- FIRST PROFILE –

- SECOND PROFILE -

- ALLIES -

- THE INVESTIGATION -

- REDEMPTION -

- HOMECOMING -

- FIRST PROFILE –

How have we arrived to this point? I’m not really sure, but here you are with me. After so much life... well, the right thing for me to say would be after so much time. That could be a good reflection. Does acting in a certain way entail an unexpected outcome of the facts? I think it does. Looking back to the past they just come to my mind, rough memories about you, you wanted to turn my virgin spirit in pure and bitter resentment. ¿Can you see in what I have become because of you? I wanted to be a normal kid like everyone, with curiosity growing innocently and waiting for life to teach me how to grow up at its own time. But it didn’t. You put grey and unbreakable stones in my head, blocking the growth and the development of peace and naivety that corresponds to a kid. On the other hand, I think I should thank you, because in the growing up process I was so many light-years ahead than most people of my own age. Don’t think that the perfection in my talent on different ways of art hasn’t costed me. One of the abducted denied with the head.

"I see, this is fun for you, I celebrate that! Because the story starts with you, realise that. If I remember well, and I can say that I have a privileged memory, you were the first person ever that made me feel like a piece of trash for the first time in my life. After almost thirty years have passed, you deserve, without doubt, an exquisite finale and you will have it.

That morning while everyone was taking breakfast before school, my mother was making lunch for me as usual. I was ten. I was a chubby boy with my face full of freckles all over my nose and cheeks. Being a bit feminine, well...quite feminine, made some days hard. Really hard I would say.

I’m going to sit in front of you and we’re going to stare at each other while I tell you the events.

It started without any reason, one morning in the recess you looked at me. You were looking how I was jumping the rope along with some girls of the class. It had to be very weird for a retarded and homophobic mind like yours seeing a boy playing a girl’s game. It did get you very mad, it even hurt your macho ego then without a word, you came and pushed me. I fell over the cobbled ground while you were calling me faggot, I was very ashamed in front of everyone so I thought it was the end for me. At one thousand times per second I wanted the ground would open and swallow me forever. My classmates helped me to stand up and we didn’t even mention what it had happened. I imagine that they took for granted the fact that they were the only ones I played and hanged out with. When the day was over and I was alone in the darkness of my room (that it was no longer shared), it started growing in me, without any notice, a singular fear. The doubts began to torment my pure mind. Do you realize so far I was happy being and feeling in my own way? Well, that was the first hit you gave me in the middle of my forehead, asking me that it was wrong being the way I was. That’s something you shouldn’t do with a kid, you have to let them develop and grow according to their own nature.

Sleeping was a little hard with that first serious problem in my life. Inside my head I was convinced the next day I would face it bravely and without any fear. That scruffy, thug faced and as tall as skyscraper boy from eighth grade, should apologize for such humiliation. But the time for truth was here and my heart was beating ten times faster than the usual. My pulse was increasing and the worst of all was that I felt  according on how he saw me, fat and faggot, showing that frightened me even more.

There were a lot more days along the last term. Something I didn’t have to do was trying to get close to you. I even joined the basketball team just because you were the coach. I had to show you that I was a regular boy like any other one. That I could play with a ball and a rope with no problem at all. But something happened with no willingness: The other even more thug-faced, shorty and moody boy, became your inseparable friend. As it was expected, the number one in his list was how to bully other fellows.

Do you remember when you invited me to the fields one afternoon? Yes, you and Toni... that was his name, wasn’t it? Anyhow, it’s the same. I see that you look at me closely and you don’t say a word. In case you don’t remember and you’re wondering, why are you here? I keep telling you.

It was around seven in the afternoon. Booth of you were playing basketball and the school was closed, obviously. Jose, the gatekeeper, have already locked the doors and there was a dimmed light in the upper left side of the building. Jose and his wife Margarita lived on the ground floor, beside the reception.

You made a gesture rising your hands so I could jump the fence, I did it. It seemed at first that the game among the three of us would be respectful, but it wasn’t. Your friend started to slap me on my nape each time I tried to score and failed, mocking about my way of running and the exaggerated sweating I always have had. I was afraid again. I was looking at you to see if you were in my favour but you weren’t, you were laughing and winking at him. I didn’t know how to escape from such uncomfortable and terrifying situation. I dropped the ball and when I wanted to say goodbye saying that it was getting late as an excuse, you reached me out and took my neck. Not with much strength but showing off authority, you made walk backwards held as if I were a dog. The little bully was hopping, joyful for what was coming afterwards. You commanded me to kneel. I didn’t understand anything. I could never imagine when you took your dick out that you wanted me to give you a blowjob. Of course, now it’s all different. Back then I just started to feel some kind of attraction for boys. About explicit sex, I have never done it neither imagined it, I knew that it was something grownups did and I was waiting my time to do it. Yes, my dear, without realizing anything I had both of them in front of my mouth. You told me to suck without pressing my teeth. First yours and then his. I had to get you very hard if I wanted to become friends. I didn’t cry. Neither had I stopped to think about anything, just that it was the only way out for you to leave me alone and I did it trembling. That’s right, I was sure about it. When you came heedlessly all over my clothes and you looked up to the black sky moaning with pleasure, you let the word whore out from your lips.

Give us your lunch! those were the most repeated words in the following days for more than one month. I couldn’t get loose from the fear of seeing you. As it’s for me, I’d cut your dicks off and then I’d chop them up with scissors. You stole my lunch threating me to tell that I was a dick eater faggot. What a coward I was! How cheeky you were!

After so many things that have happened throughout my life and that I will continue to retell with pleasure to reassure your cruel souls, I’ll tell you that it was not too difficult to find you. You were still in the same town without having made much progress, although for your intellect and the expectations that could be intuited about your persona, it was quite evident. I imagined that you would get some job like janitor, at the post office or cleaning pools, you would meet the wigger girl of your life in a nightclub in Poligono and fill the house with children. Am I wrong?  Oh, oh, oh! I'm going to have to pat you on the cheeks, it looks like you're falling asleep. No, no, no ... Look at me! It's soon, I'm not done yet. Don't look down, you're going to make things worse.

Do you see how I'm dressed? Have you ever imagined that this chubby boy could be in front of you today with such elegance? No I don’t think so. Because I have managed to be someone in life. I am a children's story writer. My great goal is to be able to leave a legacy of stories for children where tolerance, respect and justice reign forever. You do not believe me? I see you raise your eyebrow. There has always been something that has bothered me deeply about the stories. Why does the female figure have to be the submissive, the weak and the misunderstood? And the gays ... Where are we in those stories? Is there anyone who created a classic based on other gender trends? Well, basically that I write. I show new generations that anyone can be loved by someone of the same sex: Princesses, princes, heroes and villains. Love is for everyone the same. But characters like you and your friend ... By the way, I learned that he had passed away a few months ago from prostate cancer. What a bad luck! Poor, he must have had a hard time.

Look me in the eye and try to keep you awake when I talk to you, fuck! I told you to reset those minds. The truth is that I see no better way than this valid therapy group we are doing. A little primitive, ok, but effective.

Returning to our business when I found you I was very happy. Seriously, I'm not kidding! And it was so easy to convince you to come that my enthusiasm was double.

To be totally honest, I didn't remember exactly your last names. I had to go to the school yearbook to find your picture, but I located you instantly.

I'll just take your gag off if you promise you won't scream! It's not that I care if you're going to do it but I hate screaming. Also, up here nobody will listen to you.

It’s done. You see? Are you calm? I’ll give you some water. I think you want to tell me something and of course, you will have a dry mouth. You have more than an hour with the body belt on and breathing hard, but don’t hurry, every dog has his day. There will be time for everything and I remind you that I have reserved a special ending for you.

What you say? I don't hear you clearly. Could you speak a little louder, please?

I know your arms hurt but don't give it so much importance. Man, it is logical, you are losing a lot of blood, although you still have enough ... I would say several hours of life. Quiet, you will have plenty of time to get to know my stories with others, some of them much more interesting than ours. I don't want you to forget that I do this for us, since you were the first on the list.

You screwed the childhood of a shy and self-conscious child instead of lending a hand as any decent human being would have done. Instead, you opted for the path of the offense.

Take, babe! Do not make me regret. You say in a soft and scared voice that you have family. Yes, of course, I have it too, but that won't change anything.

You are separated, with two children who don’t want to know anything about their father. Your wife is only interested in the children's pension. Do you think I don't know that you have two restraining orders? Yes, because of gender violence. Because that's you: A piece of shit. Slag that deserves to live with scum. And where is the garbage? In the manure, which is where I think you're going to stop.

Pay attention! Stop sobbing like a helpless child if possible. Now I will introduce you to one of your counterparts. I show you all, the greatest homophobe son of a bitch that I have ever known: Jesus!

How are you this afternoon? Tired I imagine. But don't look at me that way! We have only been together for a few days. And you with the name of a prophet. What irony right? He died on the cross for the sins of mankind and you will do it for yours. No, I can't take the tape from your mouth too. Imagine, we would turn this into a chicken coop.

The correct thing is that after your presentation we tell our story. Do you remember the day we met? Oh! I do. Allow me this sigh because it was really pretty. At that time, I was twenty-four or twenty-five and just finished my medical degree. Despite this, I suffered unemployment like most of humanity. I went out to celebrate it alone, with no one at my side to share it, but very happy. After dinner at the city's trendy Japanese restaurant, I continued the night and decided to have a drink at the F.F. I never knew what those acronyms meant. I imagine something like Free Faggots, I don't know.

Wait, I’m getting a cushion for your back. That column is a bit uncomfortable and I see that you are sliding down. Much better, right?

I was drinking gin with cola and you sat next to me at the bar. You asked the waiter the same and you smile at me. What a sweet face you had! What a sweet face you have! You immediately noticed that I was alone and happy. From the beginning our talk was fluid and as if we had known each other for a lifetime. We began to tell anecdotes as if we haven’t seen each other for years for years. You inspired me a strange confidence that I liked more and more and after a