After Death (42 page)

***

And now Frank watched Eli begin to wriggle and squirm in agony but he felt no compassion, no pity. There was no mercy for a creature such as this.

The odorous fumes began to pour from Eli’s mouth, his eyes, his ears and Frank held him firm —

You will not return, you insidious horror!
Frank thought,
Your time here is finished!

Eli screamed as if he was being roasted alive, his face rapidly shifting —

His skin rippled and realigned and he was the Dracula-like vampire from Frank’s early story — and then there was a second shudder — and he changed into Eli as a young man, just as he had been in Burt’s story — Yet another ripple followed and Frank was looking at his own screaming face — and still Frank would not let go —

Eli and his fucking tricks, Eli and his fucking tricks…

Eli’s strength was almost gone — he finally reverted back to own form — only now he was deteriorating — His partially transparent figure was aging, wilting… He shrieked and wailed and kicked and clawed but Frank’s grip was solid.

You are done here! Done, I say!

The air and light quivered and the candles flared with some supernatural force that seemed to burn everything in the cave but still Frank hung on. And then, with a thunderous clap that shook the entire mountain, Eli’s face sloughed off down to the bone and the cave walls rained loose earth —

Eli fell apart in Frank’s hands — an ancient form crumbling and disintegrating until all that remained to slip through his fingers and drift lightly to the ground was dust.

And then it was over —

Frank stole one last glance at the central mirror, at his own powerful figure that seemed to pulse with radiant energy like an angel.

He was victorious! Jackie was safe! Eli was no more!

And then he noticed that Fernando and his cohorts had returned, staring at him, frozen in place — their images dim and ghost-like, their faces slack with shock.

The minions..?
Frank thought —
Why are they still here? Their master is finished —
Forever
.

***

Washington slowly lowered his weapon with a grim countenance. In front of them Frank was twitching, the spike impaled deep in his chest, his blood flowing into dark pools on the ground around him and soaking into the earth.

He turned one last time to someone unseen. His lips moved but neither Fernando nor Parks were able to hear his words.

***

Frank looked up at Jackie as her teary face loomed over him, her expression, as always, tender and generous.

“Thank you, Frank.” She said softly, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Thank you, my love.”

Frank smiled back at her, then noticed his own arm — the arm that smote the evil Eli and saved his beloved wife. It was losing reality — returning to the transparency that is the domain of all ghostly shades.

His own blood had done what it needed to do. The monster had been stopped. He could rest with the knowledge that Jackie was free and that he was the hero of his own horrible story.

“I love you too.” He whispered as tears fell from her eyes and he saw them pass through his quickly disappearing form.

A deep contentment warmed him to his core. He was leaving — it was time for him to go.

But he had fulfilled his promise — His beloved Jackie was safe.

***

Fernando, Parks, and Washington watched Frank die before them, a strange self-satisfied smile frozen clearly on his face, eyes still fixed on the piece of mirror on the ground nearby.

Washington glared for a long moment in absolute disgust. He leaned in and peered at Frank’s face.

“Am I seeing this right? Is that sick motherfucker smiling?”

He spat angrily at the corpse.

“Bastard got better’n he deserved — Shoulda died afraid and in pain like his victims.”

There was movement behind them — Washington spat one more time and the forensic team arrived and began doing their job; cordoning off the area, taking flash photographs, marking the position of the body and measuring the distance from this grotesque object to that. One of them pulled Parks aside to confer.

Fernando glanced one last time around the cave that was Frank’s family legacy.

The dismembered arms and hands continued to point, the decapitated heads and the skulls entombed in the walls seemed to follow him with their stares — as though waiting expectantly for the secrets of this place to be unraveled.

But although Parks had been right about many things, the bulk of the secrets would remain unanswered — until the publishing of the manuscript of Franklin Davis — in his novel entitled —

AFTER DEATH.

Added by Dr. Lazlo Mangrove, P.H.D., Doctor of Clinical Psychology, Los Angeles Fizbourne Medical Institute and School of Psychiatry.

The publishers of this book have allowed me, albeit briefly, to add some few small notes to the reader in the hopes of further illustrating the uniqueness of this material. At the time of this printing, my representation is in negotiations with said publisher in the hopes that I may further expound upon this noteworthy case in the prolix detail it deserves in several medical journals and, possibly, a separate volume dedicated solely to the rare insight and complexity of the inner workings of the mind of a serial murderer that this rare document has elucidated. However, for the purposes of this Afterword, I am limited to the mentioning of just a few of the many characteristics of this material that entirely set it apart from any other that I am aware of.

Firstly, that the entire “novel” was written by a psychotic individual about themselves in the third-person tense. This is quite unusual as in most cases, the tense used is the first-person singular and is in much more typically a diary format. Such effort to observe and write about oneself objectively is beyond unusual and his attention to detail is most startling. The careful examination of his own state of mind, thoughts, and even motivations is unprecedented. Further, that these writings were carefully typed and constructed as opposed to the norm in such cases; most often a rambling and incoherent free-flow stream of consciousness from the demented mind to the page, written free-hand and in most cases, totally unintelligible and incomprehensible is quite remarkable.

Secondly, that the author included sections from another character’s point of view is virtually unheard of and quite astounding. Previous writings of psychotics and delusional individuals again are characteristically myopic and egocentric—to attempt to put oneself into the mind of another would be literally outside their “realm of thought”. The fact that the only other point of view attempted is Fernando Puenza further illustrates Mr. Davis’ feelings of true friendship and bonding to an unusual degree with the real Mr. Puenza.

And lastly, and most remarkably, that the author completed the entire work and left it in his abode for others to find,
including the ending, which had not yet transpired
is without a doubt, the most singularly incredible part of this case
.
That the author fabricated several characters, such as Detective Carver Washington, and made many mistakes in police protocol is consistent with the rest of the material, but the fact that he not only questioned the “reality” around him and his own motives towards the end of his work, but that he also designed and carried out, in as much detail as possible, the conclusion to his own story and his own demise, is an incredible feat that I hope to further expound upon in detail at a later time.

As one last and final note, I have just been shown the Coroner’s report and there is another startling fact to add to this already most noteworthy case. The cause of Mr. Davis’ death was simple to determine, it being clearly from a long honed wooden stake through the center of the heart (the same, the reader will remember, as that which finished the vampire-like villain in Mr. Davis’ earlier attempt at a horror novel). What is most odd, however, is that the Coroner cites the existence of an earlier wound at the exact same location as the entrance of the spike, a wound from many years prior that was allowed to go untreated and which apparently grew festered to the point of gangrene (contrary to the doctor’s remedial visit described in the book). What is even more incredible, however, is that the source of the original wound was pushed by the spike during the suicide of Mr. Davis and imbedded in the tissue of the heart and this object was further discovered to be a long and dirty fingernail.

I regret to say that at the time of this publishing, the DNA testing of this new evidence has not been completed but it would come as no surprise should this turn out to be an early and telling infliction by none other than Mr. Davis’ father.

L.M.

Added by Fernando Puenza

It took over three months for me to get hold of Frank’s “novel” and I had to battle a Police shrink and wait for it to clear the Police evidence procedure and probably wouldn’t have gotten it at all (Burt was trying to get it by this time as well) if it weren’t for a wild note that Frank had left behind that actually said:

“If something happens to me and my wife, I want my things to go to my one and only true friend — Fernando Puenza.”

By the time I got it, the TV interviews and guest spots where I spoke about my “friendship” with one of the most scary child serial killers of all time had almost dried up but I knew that people would still be interested in more—especially since I now owned a rare X-ray of a psychopath’s mind.

It wasn’t hard to get a publisher bidding war started and by the time it was done, I knew I’d never have to work as a hospital cafeteria cook again — or anything else if I didn’t want to.

The publisher recommended that we hire a shrink to analyze the book and that it would be very interesting for the readers to see notes at the back of the book from me and him, comparing what Frank saw and what had actually happened and was true.

We boiled some of the basic facts down to this — Frank’s father was a nutcase that had his two sons, Frank and Burt (step-son) help kill his wife, their mother (Jacqueline), when they were kids (Burt’s role in this was never proven and no charges were ever brought against him). Frank’s father’s name was not Eli, rather Harvey, but many of the characteristics that Frank gave to Eli in his novel were almost exactly the same as those of Harvey. Harvey, to those that were still alive and remembered him (he had simply “disappeared” many years ago and was presumed dead) said that he was a “strange one” — a jovial prankster at times, angry and aggressive at others. Harvey had apparently gone through several periods of killing sprees, mostly children, and this usually included some gross mutilation for “trophies”. Obviously, he was never caught during his life time and the evidence wasn’t clearly linked until Frank came along. The infamous cave where a lot of the evidence was finally found had been worked on by Harvey and maybe even Harvey’s father as well as Frank over many years and lined with remains — (someone should tell the reporters it had been a cave and wasn’t built from scratch out of bones as they’ve been saying).

Whether it was from his genetics or from a tortured and sick childhood, Frank at some point took over where his father left off in the family business of (primarily) child killings. The complete story, you now already know — but the moments of insight, the trip to the church and the pleading for God’s help, even asking me to bring the police into the situation and having Burt provide a map — were, according to the consultant shrink, Frank’s “conflicted attempts at dealing with collected guilt — which eventually fractured his psyche in two — one part that committed the terrible crimes and the other part that became the hero to rescue his wife (and mother) and punish the murderer (ultimately himself through suicide).”

As a final note, I would like to say to the reader that the irony of getting rich on the back of a notorious and sick child killer is not lost on me, and although I understand that a lot of people are upset about this — They should understand I just happened to be at the right place at the right time (so to speak).

I also understand that the fact that Frank’s dream of becoming a successful novelist and writing a bestseller – now that it’s happened — is really disturbing to some. Even though he accomplished his life’s goal after his death — it makes a lot of people angry. Unfortunately for them (but not for fans of this book) — it looks like there’s more to come.

By now you’ve probably heard the rumors that because of the success of this one, there’s talk of a second book about Frank in the works — a prequel or sequel or spin-off — it hasn’t been figured out yet.

What I do know is this — I’ve been asked to write it and it’ll again be written just like the first one was —

Which means I’ll have to see life just like Frank did — and imitate the writing and do it from Frank’s twisted point-of-view — which means it’s just like in Frank’s story — as creepy as it is —

He gets to keep on speaking to us — even from beyond the grave.

F.P.