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The plan started going awry, as so many plans do, the minute Martin Whitely opened his mouth.
“How was the vacay?” He began, disgustingly jovial, “Tell me everything.” That was when he seemed to realize Malcolm wasn’t alone. “Uh, who is she? “Squinting judgmentally as he added, “And what is she wearing?”
Malcolm glanced back momentarily at the wiry girl with boyishly short reddish-brown hair covered with a black bowler hat. In fact, except for the white stripes on her stockings, she was dressed in mostly black, a dark jean jacket hiding the fact she was wearing a corset.
“You’re one to talk,” Maggie Rose snarled, glowering at Martin murderously, her voice taking on earie thickness only Malcolm to detect as she said, “Here’s how things are going to work Dr. Giggles, you’re going answer your son’s questions and then shut up. “It was the same thickness Malcolm heard when security asked about her clearance.
Having only been a vampire for two years, Malcolm hadn’t got the hang of hypnotism yet. He had managed to use it on a few suspects when the need arose, but he could never get it to last more than a few seconds. However, if the last few minutes were any indication, his girlfriend seemed to have a knack for it.
Which was just how they planned it.
With Martin froze, his face disconcerted, Malcolm raised the picture of the Carousel Killer’s first victim, asking firmly, quickly, “Did you know this man?”
Martin looked at the picture. “Uh…I don’t think so. I mean, it’s hard to tell with the postmortem bloating. Why?”
Malcolm got to the voice, his voice steely, blunt. “I think he’s somehow connected to one of your victims.”
“Well…” Martin mused, “You know more about my victims than anyone. Start there.”
Malcolm’s heart jumped into his throat, his eyes widening for a moment. Had his father found a loophole to mind control without even knowing what he was doing?
“Just get more specific, babe,” Maggie Rose said, “Something he can’t get around.”
“Malcolm, what is she talking…” Martian began.
Malcolm cut him off. “What about the others?”
Martin, as Malcolm had expected, played dumb. “Now, who says there are others?”
“People had always speculated, and I know there’s at least one more.” Malcolm responded firmly, “Are there anymore?” There’s was no guarantee the girl in the box’s family was behind the carousel killings. And if there were more than her, they deserved justice too.
And he wasn’t leaving this cell without their names.
Martin looked surprised, scared even, pressing his mouth together, even making some sound, as if he was trying to keep the noise in.
Anger and disgust washed over Malcolm, the heartbeat he didn’t have anymore somehow ringing in his own ears. Before he even realized what he was doing, his voice had that earie thickness only another vampire could detect as he shouted, “Open your mouth and tell me how many victims you have the police don’t know about!”
“Only three!” Martin shouted, before pausing, no doubt in shock and clasping both hands over his mouth.
The realizations hit Malcolm in waves. He had done it. He got the truth. Well, part of it, at least. Then it hit him what that meant. Three more victims. Three more lives lost. Their loved ones shattered.
Before he could dwell on that for two long, Maggie Rose said, her voice hushed, “Babe, do you know what you just did…”
He looked between Maggie Rose, who also had her hands over her mouth as well for a very different reason, and Martin, who, perhaps for the first time ever, looked absolutely terrified of his son.
Because even if he didn’t understand what happened, he understood that Malcolm just made him confess to murders he’d been hiding for over a decade.
The Surgeon was now Malcolm’s puppet, completely at his mercy. The thought sent a little thrill through Malcolm he wasn’t proud of.
Now, if only he could keep it going.
“Tell me the girl in the box’s name. Now.” Malcolm said, managing to keep the mind control going.
Noise came from Martin’s mouth, unfortunately it was covered by his hands.
“Remove your hands and answer my questions.” Malcolm ordered, a thrill of excitement oddly similar to the one he got as kid his first successful time without training wheels. Am I really doing this?
Martin dropped his hands, shouting, “Sophie Sanders!” After a moment’s panting, Martin managed to ask, his voice alarmed, “How are you doing this? What did you do to—”
“You won’t speak unless it’s to answer my questions,” Malcolm cut him off, adrenaline surging, an almost heady sensation overtaking him. After years of her existence being denied, the girl in the box had a name.
Martin immediately halted, his eyes wide with confusion.
“Now, what about the other two?” Malcolm asked, “Names. Now.”
“Chase Daniels, Lola Bennet, Risa White—” Martin’s voice trailed off.
But Malcolm caught it. “That’s four. You just said it was ‘only’ three. “Had Martin found another loophole by lying? Malcolm technically had only ordered him to answer the questions; he didn’t think to specify they were truthful answers.
Well, he was about to rectify that right now.
Or he would have if he hadn’t heard someone’s knocking on the door. “Hey,” A girl’s voice said through the door, “We need to talk.”
Malcolm whirled around, seeing the place face of a dark-eyed girl about his sister’s age, dark brown hair hidden under a newsboy cap, peering up through the glass square in the door.
Poppy? What was she doing here? She was supposed to be watching his mother.
“Look, I got your mom with me, we all need to talk,” Poppy continued.
Maggie Rose was out of the door, before Malcolm, who turned back Martin long enough to order , “Don’t move.”
With the Surgeon secured, Malcolm hurried out of the door, finding Poppy, that resolute look she wore before a fight, her machete on her back. And sure enough, Jessica Whitley was standing by her, the older woman’s face strained. Malcolm knew his mother’s stress reactions too well not to see them.
“Why are you—” Malcolm began, when it clicked, “The killer contacted my mother, and you intercepted her.”
Poppy nodded. “I was going to leave her in the car while did the job, but when I saw the head of the Brooklyn’s coven’s personal vehicle I was afraid let her out of my sight. The hypnotized guards made it easier to get in, though.” She touched the handle of the machete before glancing over at Maggie Rose, “No offense, but how did you get involved in this?”
Maggie Rose paused for a minute. “Yeah, probably not the time for that conversation. So, what did this freak tell her to do?”
Poppy paused for a minute, appearing thoughtful, deliberate. “He has another hostage.” She turned to Malcolm, and he knew what she was going to say. “And if your sperm donor’s not dead in thirty minutes, he’s going to kill her.”
Malcolm felt his chest compress for a minute, even as his brain pieced together what must have happened next. “You were following her, you confronted her, and when she told you…you volunteered to do it in her place.” As part of queen’s execution squad, Martin wouldn’t be the first monster Poppy had even killed. Just the first human one.
“Apparently it would be a shame to get my hands bloody,” Jessica spoke up, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what was happening.
Malcolm looked at her for a moment, then back to Poppy. “You know I can’t let you do this.”
“After everything he’s put you through?” Poppy tilted her head, “Sure you can. Just take your mother and walk away, Piggy. I’ll take care of it. It’ll be quick.” She glared into the window, “Better than any of his victims ever got.” Her face fell, “Wait, is he—”
“We can’t seriously be talking about killing a man in cold blood.” Maggie Rose spoke up.
Jessica took a deep breath. “What exactly has Malcolm told you about our family?”
“We’re in an asylum for the criminally insane, what do you think he’s told me?” Maggie Rose, “I just didn’t realize the murder gene was on both sides!”
“Hey now!” Malcolm exclaimed, going into protective offspring mode.
“Don’t ‘hey now’ me when your two moms are going Dexter,” Maggie Rose exclaimed right back him, “It starts with him,” She gestured to Martin’s cell, “where does it end? Traffic violations, shoplifters, pricks with grow-opts in the woods out back?”
Malcolm immediately thought about what Maggie Rose told him about her brother. About how mad she was when she found his Marijuana farm in their secret childhood hideaway. About a grave in that same hideaway where no one would see, dug with a freshly turned vampire’s trembling hands. And it tempered his anger.
“I’m sorry,” Malcolm said, “I know how this looks but…the killer’s gotten under her skin. There must be another way, just give me a minute.” He looked at Jessica, “How was he planning to verify? Did he give you any sort of camera?” Surely, the killer wasn’t about to take her word for it that Martin was dead.
“No, he just said I have thirty minutes to go through with it, and if I don’t, an innocent woman will die.” Jessica answered, a terrible desperation to her voice.
“And we’re wasting time talking about ethics,” Poppy insisted before shoving Jessica towards Malcolm, “Just take them both and go far away from here.” She reached for the blade.
Malcolm felt the pressure physically weighing on him. If he couldn’t think of something soon, Poppy was going to bust her way into that cell, whether they agreed or not. “I just need a minute.”
“We don’t have a minute.” Jessica snapped, “A good woman dies so that a bad man can live?”
That was when Maggie Rose leaned in. “Babe, what if we faked it?”
Malcolm whirled around. “I appreciate the idea babe, but this isn’t an exploitation film…” His voice trailed off, and he realized something else, “Actually maybe that could work.”
“What?” Both Jessica and Poppy exclaimed in near unison. “Malcolm, what are you talking about?” Jessica asked.
“The cameras here are ancient, so the killer can’t hack them, and they haven’t hired new guards in years,” Malcolm rambled, “But they don’t have an operating room, or…” He felt a little colder as he added, “Or a morgue.”
It was Poppy who spoke up next. “So, they would have to move Martin, or at least his body, and then it’s a matter of stealing the right clothes and supplies.” After a beat, she added, “So we wouldn’t necessarily have to kill him, just hurt him bad enough they need to take him to a hospital…”
Jessica didn’t seem entirely sure. “What about—”
Malcolm put what he hopped was a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “The team and I can take it from there. No one else is going to die today, I promise.”
That was when he heard the door to the cell creeping open. He whirled around to see Maggie Rose with her hand on it.
“No offense, but if Poppy does it, I don’t know if she can stop herself, and you’ve never drunk from the tap before,” Maggie Rose reasoned, “And honestly, I’ve been waiting for this moment since you told me what he did. I promise I’ll only beat him, maybe some non-fatal biting.”
Malcolm examined his lover carefully. She spoke the truth. “Alright then. I’ll let you take it from here, Madam.”
As Maggie Rose slipped through the crack, she added. “You all might want to look away.”
#
The vampire slowly shut the door to Martin Whitley’s cell, whirling around on her heel with a bit of flourish. The performance of her life and she didn’t even have to act.
Martin, for his part, was still frozen from his offspring’s hypnosis, his eyes confused and terrified.
“How does it feel?” Maggie Rose asked sauntering closer to him, “To be helpless and terrified? To know the end is coming any moment?” She circled him, pausing for effect before saying, “Someone you’ve hurt wants you dead, you know? Blackmailed your ex to do it and everything. And there’s another woman out there with a very large blade, who really want to wet it with your blood. ” She was inches away from his face now. She can see how heavily he was breathing. “Don’t worry,” She whispered, putting a hand on the back of his neck pulling it closer to her, “I’m not going to kill you. I’m just going to make you wish I did.” She could feel her fangs as she stuck them out, lunging and digging them into Martin’s throat. The blood was hot, wet, and too salty, fleeing like sludge as it went down her throat.
Martin’s screams echoed throughout the room, and he screamed even more as she roughly pulled her fangs out, his hands automatically going to the side of his neck, apparently no longer under Malcolm’s control.
“Ah that was nasty,” Maggie Rose said, whipping her mouth and flinging the blood back on Martin’s face, “What are they feeding you here? Oh, don’t look at me like that. You’ve done far worse, we both know it.”
“You’re—” Martin panted, “You’re—” It was as if he couldn’t even say the word.
“Older than Malcolm,” Maggie Rose snarked, “Yeah.” She circled him. “You know, in all my decades of living, it’s not often that I get ticked off but, you—” She pounced, her knuckles stinging as they made contact with Martin’s nose, sending the man across the room, landing near a corner of the cell. “You tried to kill my boyfriend!”
She marched over to him, grabbing him by the collar as his head rolled back, blood pouring from his nose, “I mean, I didn’t know him from Adam at the time, but I’m still mad.” She pulled him up, body slamming him into the floor as she shouted, “AND HE WAS A FRICKIN’ KID!” She leaned in close as she added through gritted teeth, “And I won’t stand for someone hurting a kid. Just ask Malcolm, it’s how we met, actually.”
Martin let out a pained gasp as Maggie Rose put a knee on his groin, examining his battered face before whipping at his bloody noise, smearing the fluid all over his face, singing, “Now, I’ve got the tools, I’ve got the time, I punish a most worthy crime, against humanity,” She dipped her hand into the blood around his neck and began smearing it as well, “Somewhere it’s always time for tea.” She leaned back a moment, seriously contemplating, “Maybe my boss was right to be worried.” Looking down at her moaning victim a moment, she said, partly to him, partly herself, “But can you really blame you me? I mean, you’re an evil doctor, they were killing evil doctors.” Tenderly, she picked up Martin’s left hand, playing with his fingers as she mused, “But maybe a different song.” She roughly grabbed his thumb, bending it back, singing above the sound of cracking bones and horrified, pained screams, “I know the sickening thoughts that slither around your head…”
#
“What’s she doing in there?” Jessica cried, putting her hands over her ears as Malcolm pulled her close, trying to offer what comfort he could as Martin’s screams echoed through the halls.
Not the first impression I was hoping for. Malcolm’s stomach knotted in dread. Maggie Rose had been in there a couple of minutes, and Martin had been screaming for half of it. And there was the almost manic singing.
“…You can lie to papers; you can lie to the press…”
She kept repeating that line. Like, more than the song repeated it. Malcolm was getting a very strong impression Maggie Rose didn’t care for Ainsely anymore than she did his parents at the moment.
Poppy, who was pacing the hall, whirled around to face Malcolm. “Yeah, this is much more humane.”
“Turning on each other isn’t going to help the situation,” Malcolm shout back, when the halls feel eerily quiet.
“Hey,” Maggie’s voice could be heard on the other side, accompanied with a slap, “Hey, wake up, Wake up! You’re not getting off that easy!”
Malcolm’s body managed to go even colder. “Wait here.” He told the others heading for the door.”
He threw it open, revealing Maggie Rose slapping Martin’s battered, bloody face. He was unconscious, covered in blood, but Malcolm could now hear him breathing, his heart beating. He was alive.
“Maggie,” Malcolm called out gently, “You can stop now.”
Maggie Rose dropped Martin, looking at Malcolm for a moment, then at Martin, her face moving up and down the man’s form, her mouth gapping in horrified realization. Malcolms’ eyes glanced down to here she was looking and found Martin’s dominate hand, mangled, handing from his snapped wrist, all five fingers bent at unnatural angles, his pinky falling from his hand, nearly severed. Malcolm through he could even see a bit mark.
“I thought if he couldn’t hold a knife, a scalpel then he couldn’t…” Maggie Rose sobbed.
Malcolm rush over to her, taking her by the shoulders and lifting her up. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry…”
He kept whispering hushed apologizes until they left the room, where the two other women were standing with baited breath.
“He’s alive, but he will be needing an operating room,” Malcolm said, then trying to spin it for her, whispered into Maggie Rose’s hairline, “See? You saved two lives."
That just earned a shutter and sob from the shaking form in his arms.
Malcolm looked to Poppy and Jessica. “I need to her out of here and contact Gil, go get help. Poppy will know how to get the guards back to normal.”
#
“You’re under arrest.”
The man in thieved scrubs laughed in spite of being pinned against the wall by three detectives, the oldest whom had a gun on him while another cuffed him, and forth man stood in front of him, his clothes speckled with blood, watched breathing in.
Maybe Malcolm wouldn’t need to try mind control again. Maybe the killer would just give the information on his own.
“Where the hostage?” Gil demanded.
“How did you find me?” The killer responded.
Okay. So much for that.
“I was wondering how you’d know Martin Whitly was dead.” Malcolm began, “The camera at Claremont are ancient, impossible to hack. They haven’t hired new guards there in years. It’s what they don’t have, an operating room. A morgue. This hospital handles both. So all you needed was some stolen scrubs and a badge. Of course, the shocked look on your face when you saw what Dr. Whitley looked like, also gave you away.”
“What did she do to him?” The killer demanded, “All I gave her was an icepick.”
That sent a renewed wave of rage through Malcolm. Not only had this man killed two innocent people, he was currently terrorizing a third, tried to turn his mother into murderer, traumatized his girlfriend. Oh, and depending on how things went when the head of the Brookyln coven realized why Maggie Rose had borrowed his car, he may have inadvertently started a vampire war. As much as Malcolm wanted to know why the man had done all this, there was a little more pressing issue at hand.
And Malcolm’s anger seemed to be the secret pass cord for hypnotism, as when he repeated Gil’s question, his voice was thick. “Where’s the hostage?”
“42 Briggs.” The killer immediately answered, his face contorting in shock as he added, “Apartment 12.” After he began, “Why did I just do that?”
The team looked at Malcolm for a moment, the Gil pulled out a walkie-talkie. They could deal with it after the hostage was safe.
Two hours later, Malcolm was standing outside the hospital, room, looking at his phone, wondering if he should call Ainsely. Martin would survive, but he wouldn’t be able to use his right hand again, apparently, so he probably still should. But he also didn’t want her there for what he was going to do.
Because the Surgeon was going to answer his questions, one way or the other. It ended tonight. He was ending it.
His thoughts were cut off when Gil walked up to him. “Kid, what happened at Claremont? I know Jessica didn’t do that. Did you—”
“You remember Maggie Rose from the Brooklyn Coven?” Malcolm cut him off.
“What does that have to do with this?” Gil questioned.
“We’ve been dating for a month, keeping it quiet,” Malcolm explained, “She knows about…she knows everything, so she didn’t want me going alone to see him. When Poppy showed up with my mother this was what we came up with. An excuse to get him to the hospital.” He swallowed, “I had a couple of her friends take her back to my apartment.” He looked at Gil, “How is she, my mother? Is she alright?”
“JT and Dani are talking to her and Poppy down at the precinct, and I’m talking to you now.” Gil said firmly, “What about Wheaton? Did what I think happen happened? Did you hypnotize him?”
“Just long enough to get an location, it should still be admissible in court,” Malcolm said, going over the mental list of names in his, “Wheaton wasn’t one of the names Dr. Whitely gave me.”
“Well, it turned out Chad’s Wheaton wife…” Gil began, “Wait, a minute, what names?”
“Before they showed up, I was able to hypnotize my father,” Malcolm said, “I was able to make it stick. I got the name of the girl in the box, the names of three other victims no one even knew about. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get much further before things went haywire.”
Gil just stood there, looking utterly stunned, and a bit of afraid.
That part sent a stab of pain through Malcolm’s chest. “Gil, you know I wouldn’t use it on you, right? Or the team, or…”
“I know,” Gil cut him urgently, “I know. It’s just…” He looked around for a moment before saying, “This is just a lot to take in, still. Honestly, sometimes I think I preferred it when I thought that was booze in your flask.”
Malcolm smiled sadly, before glancing on back his father’s unconscious form, one hand wrapped in a cast. “There is one person I’d like to try it on again, though.”