Wicked Innocence

By Fonda J Kerr

A psychopathic seventeen-year-old Logan begins to question his actions after his mother is brutally murdered. In his hunt to find the man responsible, he uncovers his family’s dark secret, one that could explain his penchant for murder.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Nov 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781398448018

Fonda J Kerr

Fonda J Kerr is an author, songwriter, poet, and screenwriter. She found her love for writing as a child; first publishing in the local school paper. Writing has always been an outlet for her depression, and she hopes to shine a light on it for others. F.J. Kerr has known she wanted to be a professional writer since she was a child, and she has been chasing her dream since. Over the years she has published in a talent magazine, as well as writing opinion pieces. F.J. Kerr has had poetry published in an anthology of poetry called Beyond the Sea.

Book preview

About the Author

Fonda J Kerr is an author, songwriter, poet, and screenwriter. She found her love for writing as a child; first publishing in the local school paper. Writing has always been an outlet for her depression, and she hopes to shine a light on it for others. F.J. Kerr has known she wanted to be a professional writer since she was a child, and she has been chasing her dream since. Over the years she has published in a talent magazine, as well as writing opinion pieces. F.J. Kerr has had poetry published in an anthology of poetry called Beyond the Sea.

Dedication

For my mom and Michael, you have always been my strength, making me laugh or smile when no one else could and encouraging me.

Copyright Information ©

Fonda J Kerr 2022

The right of Fonda J Kerr to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398448001 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398448018 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

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E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

I want to thank my mother Patricia for always telling me that I could do anything. My mentor Charlotte for always encouraging me and teaching me the things I needed to know. Michael who is the love of my life for always being here. Austin Macauley Publishers for bringing my story to life and helping me accomplish my dream.

Chapter 1

The man stood across the street watching Logan Bale, a seemingly normal seventeen-year-old boy. He had been stalking the boy for a while ever since he discovered that he and Logan had something in common. The man had planned to kill the youth like he had his mother, Katherine, when he was a teenager, but his plans had changed when he discovered that Logan had a dark side.

He had followed him into the woods one day and watched Logan kill his neighbor’s cat and bury it in the clearing. There had been no hesitation in his actions; yes, Logan had a dark side; he hid it from the rest of the world. But the man knew him better then he knew even himself.

Now he just needed to wait to make his move, for now, the man would just watch him. The man knew Logan’s father, Bobby, from many years ago, but back then, he went by the name Robert Stone. The two of them had known one another as teenagers though he wouldn’t say they had been friends; in fact, they had hated one another.

Robert’s father had been the man’s mentor, Joshua had taught him how to use his dark urges. He had instructed him how to kill and not be caught. Robert had been a sniveling brat, and he was also the reason Joshua was imprisoned now. The reason the man had killed Logan’s mother was to make Robert suffer; it was also the reason he had planned to kill his son.

So, the man watched and waited to observe both and how they reacted toward one another. He watched Robert with his son and discovered that Logan hated his father as much as his father despised him.

Over the years, Robert had become an alcoholic, and after his wife’s murder, he got worse, he was a pathetic mess. The man watched as Logan entered the forest, he didn’t bother following him this time he knew what he was doing in the woods, and he would want to be alone.

*****

I trudged through the long weeds that were down the street from my house. I kept on until I came upon a small bushel of trees that hid a small creek behind them. No one knew about my secret spot, and I planned to keep it that way. Set to my daily task, I kept on as the crisp fall air blew through my hair, and the sunlight started to dim through the forest trees.

Brushing the tree branches away from my face I entered the small area. I strolled over to a large tree looking down at the small grave at my feet.

My neighbor, Kevin’s cat Trig, had run away over a week ago, and he was still looking for him. A lot of animals ran away or went missing in this neighborhood. I looked down at the unmarked grave below my feet and smiled. Yes, this is my secret garden!

I’ve never been like other boys my age I noticed I was different from a young age. My eyes have always been empty, and I have always felt hollow inside. I don’t know why a hug from my mom has always made me cringe. I don’t understand why I am unusual.

The eyes never lie, no matter how much someone wants them to. I told myself bitterly.

I have searched my image in the mirror various times to see if my eyes were as empty as I feel; they remind me of a corpse’s eyes void of anything resembling life. All I see when I look in the mirror is a pale face, light, dull, blue eyes with strands of dirty blond hair hanging down.

Emptiness is something you can’t see, it’s something you feel. I don’t have friends; I have always been a loner; I don’t mind really. It’s better on my own, I prefer it that way.

I trampled through the overgrown path now hidden by brush and weeds and began silently going over the list of traits most serial murders shared suspecting we had a lot more in common. Some start killing animals at an early age. I thought back to when Kevin’s cat Trig had runaway.

Kevin had been the school bully and wasn’t happy until he was tormenting me or someone else. The memory of seeing the panic on his face had brought a smile to mine. Kevin had been the one to show me what it was like to be different. He was the first one to call me a freak; he and his buddies Tommy and Eric, would tease me beat me up when I was younger.

I’ve never been like ordinary kids my age, but did that mean I was destined to be a killer? I didn’t have friends or join after school activities like most teenagers. I’ve always enjoyed my solitude. I walked into the clearing now hidden behind a large bush, the branches pulled at my clothes as I made my way through them. The sound of the creek told me I was in my devoted area.

The spot I had grown to love as a child. It had been my home away from home, the place where I would go to be alone.

Lucas and I had grown up on the same street I would see him from time to time. He would always wave at me and anyone who passed his house while he was outside. But he like me didn’t have any friends; everyone thought he was too weird looking. I still, to this day, don’t know why I stood up for him when Kevin’s buddy harassed him on the bus.

Kevin was the worst of the three but Eric, and Tommy got a kick out of mocking Lucas because of the way he looked. I will admit Lucas was an odd-looking kid; he wears glasses that make his eyes look huge. His big chocolate eyes reminded me of a bug, and his black hair resembles a greasy mop. He is tall for his age, but thin he wears weird clothing, which makes him more of a target for victimization.

After I had given Eric a bloody nose, Lucas looked at me like I was some sort of hero. He was mistaken; of course, I was the villain in the story.

He began following me around; he became the puppy I never wanted. I didn’t want or need one, but after spending some time around Lucas, I discovered that he and I had more in common than books. I did my best to get rid of him, but Lucas was stubborn and refused to give up until, without realizing it, we became friends.

Lucas had met my father, who warned him off, telling him I was a bad influence, but he had stood his ground and refused to listen. He had also been the only one to meet my mother before someone killed her. It had been my fault really after she discovered my part in Kevin’s cat’s disappearance, I told myself, thinking back. Mom must have been unconvinced by my answer, which is why she searched my room and found the hidden shoebox that had my trophies inside. When I got home, she confronted me with the photos and informed me I was sick; she promised to help me. How am I sick? I asked myself, wishing my mom had been able to tell me more about my condition before her death.

My mother had left early the next morning. She had promised to explain what she meant when she got home from work, but she never made it; my father never noticed she had vanished until the police showed up one afternoon. An Officer by the name of Cole and his younger partner had informed us my mother’s body had been found in the local park. I remember Officer Cole saying she had been murdered; he had sat my father down and told him about how they had found her.

The day before the funeral, I was able to see my mother’s body as she lay in the casket, I had chosen for her. She looked like she was asleep; someone had done her makeup and brushed her long blond hair. She was wearing her favorite black dress I had chosen it for her.

I knew my mom was gone, and this shell in front of me was nothing more than an empty vessel. Her flesh was paler than I remembered, touching her face gently uncovering some of her skin beneath the cover-up. I rubbed her flesh with my jacket sleeve lightly, clearing her face and neck, exposing the marks below. She had a rope mark discoloration around her neck, pulling up her sleeves displayed bruises and burns on her body, I opened the bottom of the casket seeing her ankles had the same marks.

I knew she had been tied down like an animal, been tortured, her legs had slashes from a knife, and I had no doubts that she had more gashes on the rest of her body as well. I now had an idea of what happened to her. They had slaughtered her, and that was only the markings I could see on her wrists, ankles, neck, and legs.

The next day was the funeral I was shocked by how many people showed up for her burial. However, Bobby never displayed his face. I wanted to point that out to my aunt, but I knew she had noticed before anyone else. Apparently, Cole and my father had gone to school together and knew one another. I didn’t know if they were friends or not, but to me, it looked like they may have been at one point.

That was the day I lost my mother, and I made my mom a promise!

I will find the one responsible and make him pay. I will find the guy, mom, I promise. I mumbled as I pushed past the bushes blocking my path.

After the police had left my father and I alone, he called his sister, my aunt whom I had never met to come and pick me up.

That was the day my life changed; the day I lost my mother and my home. I don’t know about most serial killers, but I have always hated anything to change. I prefer having a routine and sticking to it. I recall feeling like a stranger though my aunt had done her best to make me feel at home. All I wanted was to be in my room alone, but I had been pawned off on my substitute family.

I didn’t like my cousin Keith when I first met him, he was a jock and, in my experience, they were all Neanderthals. Reading to a jock was like pulling a tooth without anesthetic. Keith had surprised me though; he had become an older brother, someone, I could confide in on most things anyway.

I strolled over to the large rock next to the water and took a seat. This area had been my home away from home, the place I could come to be alone. It was where I did my homework when my father was blackout drunk.

I sat in silence, taking in the smells that came with being in the forest. I glanced down into the creek bed, catching my reflection in the surface of the murky looking liquid. I stared into the cold, dull eyes of someone I didn’t recognize. I had to ask myself if the person I was seeing was me or some darker version. Do most serial killers feel the same way? I asked myself, trying to avoid my reflection.

As a teenager, I had been tall and thin, but now I stood about six-foot, and my features had become more defined. My cousin Keith had insisted I take karate class with him when I was thirteen. After he began to suspect my father was physically abusing me, he wanted me to be able to defend myself.

I guess I consider myself a good-looking guy. I mean, I must be the way girls act around me; it’s either that or they’re all crazy. I sighed and picked up a pebble tossing it into the surface of the water. I didn’t have a normal childhood growing up; an abusive father who is also the town drunk, and a depressed mother will do that. I don’t know why, but emotions have always made me uncomfortable. A simple hug still makes me want to run in the opposite direction.

I glanced down at my watch when I realized the sky was beginning to change to a paler version of what it had been earlier.

Lucas had loaned me one of his real crime books, and I still needed to return it. I checked my black bag to be sure it was still where I had put it before I made up my mind to walk to his house and return it. I stood; my butt was beginning to feel numb from sitting in the same position. Stretching, I realized my leg felt like it was asleep. I glanced around the area, thinking about the woods and the dark secrets they kept.

After exiting the woodlands, I made my way down the street in the opposite direction of my childhood home. I saw Kevin outside in the yard and growled like an animal. I don’t know why, but just seeing him has that effect on me. I caught sight of Lucas, who was watering his mom’s flowers in the front yard he waved when he saw me, a grin on his face.

Hey, Logan, did you enjoy the book? He asked, dropping the hose in the flower bed.

Yeah, I couldn’t put it down, I said, reaching in my bag long enough to pull out the hardcover and hand it to him.

You should come with me to the bookstore; they have an awesome collection of serial killer fiction and true crime. He grinned ear to ear when I nodded in agreement.

After talking for a couple, I said my goodbyes and headed home. I did my best to ignore Kevin, who was snarling at me as he washed his father’s car. I unlocked the front door and headed to my room in search of a book I could read while at my aunts. My Uncle had gotten Bobby a job as a truck driver, so he was mostly working aside from weekends. Which was a significant improvement when compared to his old job as the local junior high janitor.

The abuse had stopped while my father was out of town, but as soon as he came home, he’d make up for the days he missed on the road. I’d always spend my birthdays at my aunts. Cathy, Keith, and Uncle Ted, and I had grown closer over the years. Keith still insisted on driving me to Karate class when he was in town. A few days before I turned eighteen, I finally stood up for myself against my father.

Bobby came home sober, but hours later he was stone cold drunk, he stumbled into my room, he had started nightly beatings when he was in town the same year my mom died, I was finishing up my homework as he staggered in the door.

What are you doing, you little shit? he asked in a slur.

Homework. Why did you need something? I asked, half paying attention.

Don’t be a smart ass with me, boy. His smile was malicious.

Why would I be a smart ass to YOU? I hissed as the fury from the years of abuse surfaced.

I could feel the hatred radiating from me and onto Bobby’s face. He took a step back. Uncertainty clouding his eyes for a moment, within a second, they showed anger instead.

You have some balls talking to me like that, you little shit. Bobby glared at me.

Talking like what to you…. DAD? I questioned in a calm provoking tone emphasizing the word dad.

My father stood closer to me; I was now taller than him and more muscular. I had started lifting weights, exercising regularly, and even began running a few miles each day, first beginning the same day of going to Karate class five years ago. I raised glaring into his uncaring eyes that filled me with vehemence.

The memories of my father’s abuse for no reason other than to see me suffer, I ran my fingers through my hair that hung below my ears, never taking my eyes off his. I watched him waiting