Chapter Text
The moon was calling me again. Its blank, glowing face watched me as I got out of my van, my finger hovering over the lock button. Won’t you play tonight dear, devious, Dexter? It questioned, causing my Dark Passenger to rear its head. The moon was the only witness to my many crimes, and it knew I had a victim already chosen. A gas station worker, Jacob Henderson, who also craved the moon’s witness. More than one young woman had gone missing during his late night shift, and I had just discovered where he hid the bodies: a swamp not far from his hovel. He lived a secluded life, perhaps an attempt to keep his monster safe from discovery, but that would work in my favor.
But not tonight. I pressed lock, the car cheerfully beeping in response. I had a code to follow, strict rules to keep my Dark Passenger in line and me from discovery. Blend in. Appear normal. Those tenets had ladened me with responsibilities, all a part of my disguise, but each a burden forcing me to delay satiating my needs.
“Dexter!” Cody called out. He ran across the front lawn toward me, his sister Astor right behind him.
I bent over, scooping him into my arms and letting out an exaggerated “oof!” as Astor grabbed my legs.
“Hey you two!” I said, swinging Cody out and plopping him next to his sister. I pulled them both into a tight hug as they giggled.
“Dexter, I finished my science project!” Cody said. “Come see!”
“Alright,” I said, glancing at Astor. She smiled at me, more quiet than her brother but just as happy to see me as he was. I wondered what it would be like to feel that around someone, to look at them as if they were life-giving sun. Maybe that was why I liked children. They reminded me of the echoes of my past, the faintest memory of when I once was able to feel the things they did. When I was still innocent.
She made no sound, but felt her eyes, the mother lioness watching her cubs. I looked up and saw Rita leaning against the wall next to her front door, a broad smile lighting her face.
“I was worried,” she said when she caught my gaze. “It’s getting late.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I should have called. LaGuerta had a last-minute assignment for me.” Like digging for bones in a swamp. I patted the two cubs on the head and rose to greet the lioness, per our ritual. She twisted her mouth in a not-quite upset expression. I tried my luck and pulled her in for an apologetic kiss. I was in luck: she melted into my arms, her delicate hands resting on my chest as she deepened the kiss.
I heard Cody make a gagging noise as his sister giggled. Rita pulled back, her hand over her mouth and her eyes lit with laughter. Following her lead, I laughed too.
“Harrison is already down for the night. But I saved you a plate,” she said once she straightened out her features.
“Thank you,” I said. “Cody, why don’t you get your project to show me while I eat?”
That made the boy happy. He and his sister raced inside while Rita looped her arm through mine as we followed. Dark, demented Dexter was nothing if not good at spreading delight.
********
I stood in the baby’s bedroom, my arms resting on the rim of Harrison’s cradle as he slept. I watched his features, trying to discern myself in them. His nose was more upturned than mine, his face smooth and round, like a cherub. His hair was light, almost blonde, instead of my red, but maybe that would change as he got older. He was only two months—barely cognizant of the world around him. Barely cognizant of me. It would be easier if he could just stay that way. A little angel, who could never learn from his father’s deviled deeds.
The door creaked as Rita entered the room. She placed her arm on mine, rubbing it in a way that I was sure she meant to be comforting. I played the role of the husband and leaned into her touch, though I kept my gaze on Harrison.
On a logical level, I knew that my psychotic desires came from the traumatic experience of witnessing my mother’s death. My Dark Passenger was born in that pool of blood. Generated, not genetic.
But knowing something is different from feeling it. And I wasn’t used to sorting out feelings.
Rita kissed my cheek and slowly pulled me from the room. I let her take me to our bedroom where she closed the door quietly behind us. In a house full of kids, silence after bedtime was a survival tactic.
Rita faced me, reaching up to smooth my furrowed brow with her thumb. “What’s got you so worried?” she asked. “Harrison is fine.”
I nodded. She was right. Harrison was in her care for most of the day, and Rita was probably the most gentle person in the whole state of Florida. If Harrison were to learn anyone’s habits, it would be hers.
“It’s still so new,” I told her, somewhat honestly. “I can’t believe he’s real sometimes.”
Rita seemed to like hearing that. She leaned into me and smiled into my shirt. “I know. I often feel the same way, and I’m the one who carried him for nine months!”
I chuckled for her, giving her a gentle squeeze. She gave me a not-so-gentle squeeze back, looking up at me mischievously as her hands slid up the back of my shirt.
“Oh,” I said, not-so-creatively. We hadn’t had any intimacy since Harrison was born as Rita had been recovering from the birth. But even after the recovery period passed, I hadn’t initiated anything. I wasn’t sure that was something I was supposed to do, or if people liked to wait longer. I didn’t have the same drive for it as most seemed to, and I didn’t want to upset Rita by doing something wrong.
“Mhmm,” she said, breathing into my neck. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve been here every night,” I said.
“Not close enough,” she said, nuzzling the sensitive spot just above my collarbone. I felt my body respond, though there was no emotional feeling that followed it. I had learned that as long as I followed the former, Rita would never know what I lacked with the latter. I swept her into my arms and carried her to the bed.
********
It was late, very late, but I was not asleep. Rita lay next to me, wearing my shirt and nothing else, her body pressed against mine as her deep breaths warmed my chest. The moon was low enough in the sky that its light filtered through the window slats, casting a silver-striped shadow over me.
My need growled, hungry, thirsty. The Dark Passenger had thoughts only for Jacob Henderson, imagining him strapped to a table, naked and revealed for what he really was. The Passenger reminded me of what a sweet, delicious feeling it would be to insert the knife into his flesh.
I closed my eyes, but the moonlight penetrated my eyelids, reminding me that there was still time left tonight. Henderson was waiting for me.
I bent my head until my nose touched Rita’s hair. I breathed in her scent. Rita, I reminded myself, would notice I was gone. I had no excuse to leave, I had no kill room prepared.
No. The Code of Henry would never allow it. This needed to be well-executed, as always.
The moon glared and my need swelled, but I kept myself frozen, arms around the poor woman who naively married not one but two terrible men. But the Code of Henry would protect her. She would never learn that I was the more abhorrent of the two.