Damien

By G.J. Robbins

Damien Bones, a mental patient who enjoys murdering; Bored and tired of that sadistic fascination, he makes the decision to enter a mental hospital where he decides to spend the rest of his life... at least that is what he thought until he saw her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: G.J. Robbins
• Release date: Aug 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393748687

Book preview

Chapter 1

Damien.

I looked at my mother as a smile formed on my lips, something I didn't do often; she was one of the few people who really made me smile, if not the only one.

Hi mom, I greeted, kissing her cheek. Where is Ruslan?

In the office, I don't know what you're planning, he said, shook his head, the tangle of dark hair swaying from side to side, covering part of his mature face.

I wouldn't tell you, but we were planning our first job, something big that would make huge profits. My mother knew what her children were and yet she loved us; But isn't that what every mother does? Love your children above all else. She did not interfere in the decisions we made, she was only there to advise us, because she understood that no matter what she said to convince us not to continue with our life as criminals, we just weren't going to change and there came a point where she saw resigned to accept it.

-You'll know. See you later, I'll go with him, "I informed, she just nodded.

I walked away, walked slowly through the corridors of the house, which was large; a mansion that her husband — Dimitri — had bought for her years ago when he proposed to her. I was glad that Dimitri was giving her the life she deserved. My mother lacked many things, including the love of a good man, as my biological father left her when he gave birth to me. It was good that she did not know anything about that unhappy man, because if she were otherwise, she would already be dead.

I was a murderer and I would not tempt my heart to kill him, the same would happen to Dimitri if he harmed my mother, and I knew that Ruslan thought the same way, even though Dimitri was his biological father.

My brother was not a murderer, but our mother was the most important thing in our lives; I, on the contrary, took the lives of many people, I kept an account, but did not want to stop and think about the number for now. My first victim was at the young age of eighteen, today I was twenty-two and I greatly enjoyed murder, although I had never stained my hands with innocent blood. That could be done no matter how much he wanted to kill someone, or so he wanted to believe, he was trying to control it, but he very much doubted continuing to do so. My insane instincts would sooner or later destroy what little sanity I had left, and when that little lucidity was gone, I didn't know what was going to become of me and the people around me.

Maybe I was sick, at least that's what most of the people around me believed, even my own mother; I didn't blame her, I gave her reasons to think that way. I did not act normal, it caused me anxiety to be around people for a long time. The most alarming thing about me is that I was hearing voices in my head, two different voices that came from grown men; At times they could be violent, at other times depressing, they would incite me to do things, more than anything they would repeat that I murdered, they would tell me that I would be satisfied with it and they would calm down. So I chose to give them what they asked for. And it worked. When I murdered, they would leave and leave me alone, but then they would come back, regardless of the place or situation, they attacked me and drove me crazy, they pushed me to the edge of chaos,

That is why I was scared, because I did not want to hurt anyone innocent, I could never forgive myself. I had thought about the option of going to a psychiatrist, but at the same time, I was terrified of what he was going to tell me. I didn't want to accept that I needed help, that those voices weren't normal, much less the satisfaction I experienced in murder. So he didn't fight, he just wanted to control them with whatever was necessary.

I entered the office without knocking on the door; Quentin and Ruslan were there, going over the blueprints of the building we would enter to steal the art pieces that would go up for auction in a few days.

You are finally here, Ruslan said. You seem to be the boss, "he added jokingly.

Actually I am, I said seriously.

I walked over to them and looked at the plans, taking a quick look at the emergency entrances and exits and every detail that could make our job easier.

My thing had been to kidnap, not innocent people, but multimillionaire businessmen who had dirty businesses and very bad records; Those who had used their power to harm people, I tortured them to make them pay a little for the damage they had caused to society, using them to satisfy my blood lusts.

Now we had a partner, who got us into this - or rather, to me - however, it seemed like a good idea, it would be easy money.

We'll get in this way, Quentin pointed to a spot on the plans, we'll do it while Luka deactivates the alarms.

Good, I said satisfied, it was a good entrance. Although we need someone else to cover each access point.

I've got you covered, Ruslan spoke up. Germán is a man I trust and is willing to work for us.

If you're sure we can trust him, go ahead, I said, trusting my brother's judgment.

Then it's done, we'll strike tomorrow. —I agreed. Maybe after that I would stay hidden for a few months or maybe I would keep kidnapping, I didn't know for sure.

Tell me about everything, I said, leaving the office. I headed for the exit, meeting my mother again.

Son, come here, she murmured and I obeyed her. I went with her to the living room, I sat down in one of the armchairs and she did it next to me. You know I've never interfered in your life, he said, taking my hands, but please, stop it, Damien. Sit down, find a good woman and start a family. "I wanted to laugh as I shook my head.

The truth was, he didn't want that; I was happy being alone, having the woman I wanted whenever I wanted, enjoying them all. A family, a wife, a child... all that would make me vulnerable, I couldn't be, not in the world where I moved.

All in good time, Mom, I lied.

Don't lie to me, Damien Bones, I'm your mother, he said, I know you, please.

It is true that you know me, then you will know that I will not stop doing what I do, that I will not look for a wife, much less have a child, I replied. It's not in my plans now or ever, "I declared.

I stood up without saying another word to him and left the house; cold air hit my face hard, I appreciated it. I took a cigarette out of the pack that I always carried in my pocket and lit it. I walked through the streets with my eyes on the ground and with the murderous cravings running through my body.

I needed to kill, torture, but I held back and kept my insane impulses deep in my chest for later.

As I walked I turned my mother's words over

Children... wife..., as if one day I would wish to have a family.

How wrong I was.

Episode 2

I took a long-sleeved black T-shirt, put it on, and then did the same with my jeans, boots, and a pair of black gloves that fit my hands perfectly.

The silver gun glowed on the table in the motel room where I was passing. I had not one, but different houses, but I could not call them home, although I did not wish to have one, much against the wishes of my mother who longed to be filled with grandchildren.

I denied that absurd idea.

I checked my watch, it was almost time. I went for the weapon, taking it in my hands, it was my favorite; I had killed several people with her, the truth is that I did not remember exactly how many of them were, very bad of me. I smiled.

He was a fucking psycho.

I kept the gun on my waist and scanned the room with my eyes. Well, there was nothing else to take from there.

I left the room, walking slowly down that corridor with a yellowish wallpaper, worn by time and years. She also heard the moans of some women, the fighting screams of other people, watching young boys take drugs outside the doors. The world was shit, but the screwed up was me.

Damn society.

I stood on the sidewalk, took out a cigarette and lit it, then leaned my back against the cold brick building. With my eyes I traveled every corner of that neighborhood, the women in them, prostituting themselves, selling their bodies without being able to find something more decent to support their children... their family or simply a husband who exploited them.

I did not judge them, I did not understand them, I did not put myself in their place, simply, each one of us was screwed in his own way. His was to sell his body to get money, mine was to murder and kidnap for the same result.

I had a childhood with many deficiencies, I did not want to be poor again... ever.

After a few minutes a Tahoe truck pulled up right in front of me. I took one last drag on my cigarette and threw it on the floor, then put it out with my foot.

I opened the door of the truck and got into it. Quentin was by my side, Ruslan was driving and another boy was co-pilot, someone was missing who was currently intervening on the security cameras of the building where the art pieces were located. He was completely sure it would be an easy thing. Each of us was good at something and that is why we made a good team. Who we needed the most was the person who knew about computer science and all that shit about technology that I didn't understand a shit about.

Damien, don't kill anyone if it's not strictly necessary, Ruslan said mockingly.

You know I never murder innocent people, I answered in a serious voice.

There is a first time for everything, he replied, smiling.

I shook it and looked away toward the window, losing myself in the twinkling lights that flashed past my eyes; I leaned my head against the glass, I looked like a little boy observing things from outside. For now the voices were calm, I did not need them to screw me tonight when I should be concentrating on the robbery. Yet they were going to resurface, inciting me to kill, crying out for me to stain my hands with blood.

I remained absorbed outside without blinking for several minutes, I listened to the boys talking and laughing, but I did not understand what they were saying and I did not want to understand it either, I felt better when I pretended that there was no one around me but me and the whisper of purring of the motor making its way through the semi-deserted streets of Moscow; my thoughts were far away, probing through the depth of ideas that filled my head.

The image of the men I murdered suddenly came over me, the pleasure I felt torturing them, playing with them, listening to their screams, their sobbing pleas to finally kill them, began to run through my being very slowly, as if it were a Dark mist that advances little by little, began from my mind and progressively invaded each of my senses, clouding my reason, what little I had.

I clenched my hands into fists, struggling to contain the need that slowly gripped my body. My hands itched, they went slightly numb, it was like a tingling sensation that focused on my palms and spread to my feet. My breathing followed, becoming agitated, but labored; I pressed my lips hard, mentally repeating that I was stronger than this.

Damn, are you listening to me? I took Quentin's hand tightly when he touched my arm, pulling him away from me, unaware of him for a few seconds, realizing that my free hand was squeezing the weapon tightly, ready to use it against him.

This was starting to get worse.

Yes, I... I shook my head.

Ruslan looked at me concerned, but I ignored him as he parked the truck one block from the building, hidden in the shadows of the night. I got out of it, took the different knives and other firearms. The others prepared just like me, they put my behavior aside.

Later, we crossed the street with the greatest subtlety in the world, Germán forced the back door and we entered a corridor devoid of any lighting. I cut the cartridge from my gun and held it firmly in my hand. Ruslan was in the front and I was watching his back; My priority was always to get my brother out of any dangerous situation alive, I didn't care about losing such a big loot, I could well take another blow and get the money back, but nobody would give my brother's life back.

They can come in, the guards are distracted and the alarms are off.

The four of us heard Luka's voice in our ears, we used those devices that I had no idea of ​​what they were called, I didn't really care, I was only aware that they helped, a lot.

I put my weapon away and we continued until we reached a lighted corridor, heading for another one, minutes later we arrived at the place where the art pieces were; both walls were covered with expensive and old paintings, there were also jewels and diamonds protected. They looked unreal and beautiful.

I looked at the security cameras and ignored them.

Cautiously I took the first painting, placing it carefully on the floor, keeping the same process with the others, while the others took care of the diamonds and jewels.

Hell, this is loot worth at least a million dollars, Germán exclaimed.

Maybe it's more, Quentin replied.

No matter how much it was, he would make a lot more money, until he could swim in it.

Be careful, one of the guards is going there, Luka warned.

Shit, I exclaimed.

I stood up and handed the paintings to Ruslan, they weren't too many, but each of them was valuable.

Come on, let's get out of here, this is enough. I drew the gun just as the guard turned his face.

-Stop there! He yelled, pointing his gun at us.

He approached slowly as he took his radio to warn his partner; however, unfortunately, I was faster.

I lifted my leg, kicking him in the face. The guard fell to the ground, his weapon echoing throughout the place as did the radio shattering.

I quickly pinned him down, grabbed his handcuffs and grabbed his hands from behind.

Stay there if you want to stay alive, I said in her ear, there's no use losing her for things that aren't even yours.

He nodded almost imperceptibly.

Good boy, I mumbled mockingly. I stood up and looked at the others who were with their eyes fixed on me. What the hell are you waiting for? Get out now, "I ordered.

They obeyed me and I followed behind. Then a shot deafened my ears and made me bend my knees slightly.

I turned around and saw the other guard firing at us. We ran until we reached the exit; by that time the police must have been on their way.

We didn't go to Tahoe, we got into another truck parked on the opposite side. Ruslan got behind the wheel, started the truck and the screeching of tires was heard brutally as he put the pedal to the metal, pulling us out of there.

Hours later we were in a property that he had bought just a few days ago. It was a big house on the outskirts of Moscow, I had no neighbors nearby and that was what I liked. The road to it was a highway for several kilometers and a dirt road covered with trees from side to side. The perfect place when you want to be inconspicuous I think.

Ruslan stopped the truck and we got out at once. German took the paintings and Ruslan the jewelry while I opened the door. I went in and turned on the lights, I had already closed the windows so nothing could leak through.

Damn, said Germán, that was too easy.

He placed everything on the table carefully and Ruslan did the same. I sat down on one of the furniture and smiled. He agreed with German, this had been too easy, although of course, having a mind like mine, this was the result.

I liked planning and perfecting, it was another way to keep myself busy.

I reacted when I heard a car arrive, it could be Luka, but it was never good to be confident. I stood up, gun drawn, and cautiously headed for the door, moments later someone knocked.

I'm Luka, his voice spoke through the door, I opened it and let him in, but placed the gun on his chest when I saw that he wasn't coming alone.

-Who are they? I asked sternly, looking at the woman and man who were coming behind him.

I didn't know them and I didn't like having people I didn't trust around me at all, much less when I had such a big riot at the table.

—They are Monica and Francesco Marini, they will help us sell the paintings and jewelry at a higher price than we had in mind.

Ruslan got to us. His brow furrowed when he saw the strangers, probably thinking the same as me.

I don't like him, I replied.

Don't be suspicious, Damien, believe me, I wouldn't betray you, I know the price of a betrayal, Luka said, looking into my eyes.

And you, do you know what that price is? I asked, lowering the gun slowly.

Yes, said Monica, giving me a flirtatious look, death. I smirked. It was good to keep it in mind.

Don't forget it, I pointed to both of them, because if you betray me, I will have no mercy on you and there will be no place in the world where you can hide, I will find you and kill you, do you understand that?

Neither my wife nor I will, Francesco stated.

I raised an eyebrow at this. What a wife I had, the same one who kept giving me looks that screamed that she wanted me to make her mine when she didn't even know me. I didn't like these kinds of women; and for a moment I wanted to find a woman with a dark past like mine, who loved me no matter what I was, willing to pull the trigger with me, without fear of my madness, one who could see beyond my beauty, of my loneliness... someone like me.

I snapped out of my thoughts and stepped aside letting them in... tonight would be long.

Chapter 3

I watched as Monica and her husband went through the jewelry and paintings in a meticulous and very careful way, it was obvious that they knew about art. She had a smile from ear to ear as she slid her fingers delicately over the lines that were captured there; She informed us that the paintings had to be cared for and of course they had everything necessary to keep them in good condition.

Francesco for his part kept frowning every second as he went over the jewels in detail and subtly placed them in some cases he had brought with him.

This will be too much money, he said, maybe twice what they expected, he said; I smiled sideways. That was perfect.

When they finished they both began to put everything away, leaving it as it was, then I saw Quentin arrive with beer and liquor. The tension was immediately undone between everyone.

To celebrate, he said, placing everything on the table where the art pieces had been moments before.

He threw me a beer and I drank it delighted, the others started drinking just like me. Monica sat next to her husband facing me, crossed her long legs, which caused the skirt she was wearing to climb past her white thighs, giving me a perfect view of them. It was certainly a clear invitation. Her impudence did not interest me, much less the presence of her husband. If she didn't care, why did I?

She was looking for fun in me and I would please her, I would play with her for a while; I hadn't been with a woman for a long time, certainly fucking was at the bottom of my priority list. Women did not attract my attention much, less when I had more important things in which to occupy my time. In addition, they were in danger in my hands, I never controlled the moment when the voices appeared demanding me to kill. Being alone with a woman was risky.

I took a swig of beer and then lit a cigarette listening to everyone speak, but I paid no attention to anything they said. This was my way of being: present and absent at the same time, with my expressionless face and a mind through which a myriad of things passed that anyone who could read my mind would tremble with fear. Well, it was nothing special what I imagined, what was not normal is that I felt satisfaction thinking about it.

Can you give me a cigarette? Monica said to me, interrupting my sadistic thoughts.

I put my hand in my pocket and took out the pack, opened it and extended my arm without standing up; if she wanted something she would have to come and get it, I was not at her service, she was at mine.

Her body leaned forward, purposely showing me her cleavage that did not leave much to the imagination; Boy, she was voluptuous and graceful, unfortunately like me, she was just a pretty face rotten inside, moved by greed, power and I could even say that sex.

Thank you, she whispered, placing it on her lips as her husband turned it on.

I stayed with them, hour after hour, listening to them from time to time, when my ideas did not deviate, when the sadistic thoughts in my head were calmed allowing me to be lucid at least for a few minutes, without thinking about blood and death, without having murderous wishes coming into being. However, as time went by, most of my companions were drunk, I drank slowly, my resistance to alcohol was greater than theirs, but now I was tired of being there, so I stood up bringing with that everyone's gaze on my person.

-Now you will go to sleep? - Asked my brother still lucid.

Yeah, see you later and watch that, I said, pointing to our mutiny.

He nodded and I left, but not before observing how Monica said something to her husband who was very excited drinking glass after glass of alcohol in a pleasant talk with Luka.

I went up to my room at a slow pace, giving Monica time to arrive, because it was obvious that she would come because of what I was looking for since she arrived; when I was far enough away from the others I heard their footsteps behind me, I smiled and stopped.

I see that you are not indifferent, he said from behind me.

I turned around to look into her eyes. She really was very beautiful, I had no doubt about that, I would enjoy this, I certainly would. My head jerked to the side, I looked down the dark hallway behind her.

You are not, I replied without meeting her eyes.

He closed the distance that separated us and placed his hands on my chest; I immediately grabbed her and abruptly leaned her against the wall. She smiled and without saying anything else, I kissed her neck, I squeezed her wrists and brought them above her head, I bit her neck, being rude and forcing her to moan; I was looking to kiss me on the mouth, but I never did, I never kissed them. I wouldn't put my mouth on top of one that had no idea where it was before.

I pressed my erection against her pelvis, keeping her eager to feel myself inside her. My sexual appetite was aroused and that rarely happened.

Let's go to your room, he spoke in a broken voice.

I wanted to laugh. I would never, ever share the bed where I sleep with a woman to have sex, much less to sleep. Never.

I ignored her, glanced down the hall, the adrenaline rush of knowing that Francesco could come at any moment and see us, heightened my desire and lust. I used my hands to unbutton his blouse, I released both breasts that I immediately took between my hands, caressing them while kissing the valley that separated them, driving him crazy under my caresses. I put one of my hands between his legs, felt his core that was wet and hot, throbbing with desire.

I yanked off her lace panties, they immediately gave way; I lowered my pants and took the condom that I kept in its pocket. She frowned when she saw that he would use it. Not crazy would I be with someone without protection in between.

He bit his lip when he saw me complete. I