Autopsy of a Mind

Chapter 46: Outtake: Sebastian (5)

I hurried home to go over the details of what had happened. Ross Reynolds had written a book on the topic but not once had he mentioned the chief's daughter's struggles or words that came from her. It could be said that she had been uninterested in talking to anyone who wanted to monetize on her pain. Last I had heard from her, she had gone to a distant relative's house to recuperate. I got news after news of the other two victims dying but this one somehow survived. Time loses track of everything.

.

Alicia Williams. The Elegant Butcher.

She had confessed to a series of crimes that she hadn't been apprehended for, from shoplifting to sexual abuse to public indecency, but none of it matched the gruelling intensity of her vicious murderous side. She loved to shop and still does, from her time in prison, where she gets a full meal and spends her time scaring the other inmates with her psychotic behaviour.

She liked shopping for others, but as an orphan who had spent most of her life in the system, she grew tired of the abuse. She wanted the perfect family, she figured and brought over people she would have wanted to impact her life. Sometimes she wanted to play the doting new mother, others she wanted to be doted on and brought on parental figures. She brought in lovers who suited her style. She played house with them and used them as discard-able dolls she could use as food. Her love for all things sparkly had incited a curiosity for human flesh in her and she had thought it best to buy the vegetables fresh and get the meat fresh off the bone. And this was how she had treated those she considered family.

When questioned why she had treated them so, she simply said.

"I give what I get. They abused me so I got them back for their crime." And how did they abuse her, to be precise? By living a happy life.

She had hated Evie Lewis for her perfect little family. She grew up with parents and grandparents and the coaxing of elders who wanted the best for her. She wanted a father like Charlie who could protect her and be her hero, and she felt betrayed that he was hunting her down, not simply disciplining her but dooming her to a life in prison. She didn't want the person she considered her father to do that to her. So she threatened to take his family away from him, just as he had not given into her illusions about a family life with him.

She creeped into his house and saw the source of all her grievances, the daughter she could never be. She played with Evie because she hated her. She hated her for being favoured by so many people, whereas she was thrown away by her own parents and every other family that came after. They beat her and tortured her for being a shy little kid, and her adoptive parents showered her with gifts and not with love. It angered her. She wanted a sister to play with, so she got a younger sister she played to the heart's content with.

But what had angered her to the point where she was ready to kill Evie?

Evie had won the heart of every one of those people she had brought to play house. She had held them as they cried and reassured them; the victims were scared of Alicia and cried whenever she came into the picture. She grew tired of it.

Then why keep her alive for so long?

Because she was fun. Alicia said that she had always wished for a sister and one she didn't particularly hate. They played dress-up and cooked food together and they were happy, but her little sister, Evie, was deviant. She enjoyed 'caring' for her, but when her sister grew more tiring, she would say that it was just a growing phase, that once Evie was no longer a teenager she would understand what her sister truly wanted for her.

All of this may sound like a wild story, but it was the exact truth that Alicia had said. She had, in a twisted way, thought all of this true. She had, in her own way, adopting al her victims and made them a part of her growing family. She played house with them and discarded them when they gave Evie more love than her.

Her mind couldn't comprehend that one doesn't simply fall in love with their captor. Stockholm syndrome is dangerous, but no victim of a serial killer usually feels like they are indebted to their kidnapper for saving them. She had misconceived how she had come off to them. She had known simple psychological terms and wanted to apply them on people and turn them into machines who could give her what she wanted to the dot. That was not the case. So she killed them.

The courts ruled her sane and said she was a danger to society. A life sentence; a gala time in prison where she could do what she pleased and remain unchanged as her victims and their families mourned for their ruined lives. What a lovely scenario. While she lived a pleasant but unhinged life, her victims killed themselves over the torture she had inflicted on them.

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