Brutal Souls

By Ceanmohrlass

Memories? Imagination?
The innocent mutterings of a child?
They said he would grow out of it.
They said it’s only a phase...
Then she came into his life.
Toby has a secret. For his sixteenth birthday, his new girlfriend has booked a reading of their past lives, but she doesn’t know about his nightmares. For Hypnotherapist Margaret, it’s just another reading. The game has gone on long enough to pad her retirement fund. Unprepared for the havoc she unleashes, she struggles to stop the reading, but the damage is done. Unable to deny his true past, Toby seeks retaliation against those still living who betrayed him. Is the past destined to be repeated?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ceanmohrlass
• Release date: Feb 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370634507

Ceanmohrlass

Ceanmohrlass is a retired grandmother who has been writing novels for her family and friends for over 20 years.She is the family genealogist, and writing the family history has only increased the passion for writing.Ceanmohrlass resides in Texas and is currently working on three new novels.

Book preview

Christmas Eve 2003

Mommy! Mommy! Help me!

Claire groaned. Not again. Rubbing her eyes, she leaned over to nudge her husband but felt only his cool cotton pillow. Hand against her lower back, she sighed and stood. A shiver shook her as her toes met the cold, wood floor of the old rental house. Blue fuzz flew as the robe slid across her shoulders, and she made her way to her son’s door.

Go away! Three-year-old Toby sat with his back against the wall, little hands up in the air, tears soaking the collar of his pajama top.

Toby... It’s Momma, calm down.

No! I Bobby, go away, don’t hurt me! Toby screamed.

Claire reached out.

Toby fell on his side, his little feet kicked swift, and hard.

Her hand froze inches from his shoulder. Toby? Tears rolled down her cheeks. The nightmares had returned. The doctor promised he would grow out of this phase, and it couldn’t come soon enough.

I Bobby, I Bobby, Toby whimpered.

Toby, it’s Momma, I’m here... You’re okay, it’s only a dream, baby.

Toby sniffled. His bottom lip pooched out as he wiped his nose on his sleeve. No, Momma, I got killded.

What?

I got killded. The bad man stuck me, he said, his voice strained. His hand slid across his chest, and pulled up his pajama top. Tiny fingers tapped his light brown birthmark on his side. I got dead.

You’re not dead, Toby. She stared at him, struggling to keep her temper under control.

Bobby got dead. He rolled over, and shoved his hands out.

She reached for him again. A sharp pain dropped her to her knees. Oh, no, Arnie! Arnie!

Loud thuds sounded out as her husband stomped up the stairs.

What?

My water broke, help me up.

He wrapped his tanned arms around her chest, and pulled her upright.

It’s time, Arnie, call the doctor.

He stared at her for a moment before he trudged from Toby’s room.

Toby jumped up, his eyes glassy, and whispered, I hope they like me.

Who, Toby?

He froze. Staring up at her, he said, The dead girls.

Another pain hit low. Oh, shit... Can you go potty, please?

Toby nodded. His little feet slapped down on the cold wood. Music began to play as his urine hit the target on his plastic urinal.

Claire grabbed the towel from Toby’s bath earlier that evening, wiped her leg, and tossed it onto the water spot on his floor. Oh, hang on babies... Careful to watch her step, she made her way out of his room. Struggling to change into her dress, she sat down on the bench at the end of her bed.

Toby acted out, and yelled for her.

Arnie yanked the boy’s shirt down over his head, ordered him to get downstairs, and snatched the packed hospital bag from the chair.

Her hand clutching the rail, she took her time going down the stairs, Arnie glaring at her all the while.

At the hospital, Toby slapped his father’s hand away, and jumped up on the bed.

Stop it. You need to sit down, Arnie said through gritted teeth for the fourth time.

They won’t like you.

Toby, I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth for the rest of the night.

He kicked his feet back and forth. I want my Christmas present. His bottom lip jutted out again.

Well, too bad. Claire, you have him spoiled rotten.

Breathing in sharp spurts, she ignored him. Call your mother again. She forced a deep breath out slow.

He pulled the room phone away from the bed and dialed, mumbling about how unfair this all was to him. I can’t deal with this...

They don’t like you, Toby said again. He pointed his stubby finger directly at his father.

Arnie rolled his eyes. Deep in conversation, he turned his back on his son.

The clock ticked aloud. Twenty minutes passed before Claire cringed, and leaned forward. A hard punch on the remote, she yelled, Nurse.

I’ll be right there.

Another ten minutes passed before the nurse came to check on her, then left once again.

I’m here. A woman with short cropped, black hair, and a bright orange sweater appeared in the doorway to the room. She refused to acknowledge Claire, and sat down next to her son.

Finally. Take Toby, please, get him out of here until I come for him, Arnie said, his voice low and crisp.

The dead girls don’t like him, Toby said to his grandmother.

She ignored him, her calloused fingers gripped his hand tight, and dragged him kicking, and screaming, from the hospital room.

The nurse sidled into the room beside the struggling boy, and texted the doctor. Let’s get you ready.

Ten minutes dragged by.

Cursing, and threatening Arnie with bodily harm, Claire lost control. Unable to focus, she ignored the nurse’s instructions to breathe. Five minutes later, the first twin appeared.

It’s a girl... the doctor said. He issued orders, and patted the baby’s bottom. She let out a wail, and he handed her off to a nurse. He secured then cut the cord, and turned to face Claire once again. Take a deep breath.

She was busy bearing down, and guttural moans escaped her throat.

And, it’s another girl. Congratulations.

Heavy, deep breaths, and more expletives escaped her mouth as the doctor finished up, taking far too long for her liking. When he stood, she blew out a sharp breath, and whispered, Thank you.

He smiled, and signed the paperwork before he moved away.

She lost track of time, and the busy room confused her for a while. At last, she sobbed. Her first daughter, Heather, rested on her left, staring intently into her eyes. A messy, moist tuft of red hair stuck out at odd angles from her scalp. The nurse settled the second twin, Crystal, on her right. Thin, pale blonde hair just barely there, shone from her head as the younger girl screamed between hiccups. Toby was right. How did he know we were having girls?

Sitting on the edge of the chair, Arnie looked at his watch. He slid his palm across the back of his neck. I gotta take a leak. He hopped up, strode into the hallway, and disappeared from view.

The clock ticked aloud in the now quiet room, as the first rays of sunrise peeked through the blinds. Christmas morning. She sniffled, and shifted her gaze between the girls. Both were quiet now, their eyes closed. Merry Christmas...

Arnie’s mother appeared in the doorway. Get inside, she yelled.

Toby shuffled his feet, and stared at the floor as he made his way into the room.

Merry Christmas! Come meet your sisters, baby, Claire said. She hummed a sweet song to the girls as they began to fuss.

His grandmother placed her palm against his back, and shoved him to the bed. He leaned back as far as he was able against her hand.

Your baby sisters. Heather, and Crystal.

He shook his head. No, not their names. He pushed away as the twins began to wail.

His grandmother glared at him, yanked him from the floor, and drug him out into the hallway.

Don’t want them here, he yelled out, as she forced him to the waiting room.

Long before she was ready to release them, two nurses retrieved the girls, placed them in clear, rolling bassinet carts, and wheeled them from the room. Her heart pounded, and the pain in her lower abdomen went up several notches. She cried out, the sound echoing off the walls in the small, now empty room.

Chapter Two

Christmas Eve 1999

What’d you think I meant? Kill ‘em, asshole. Eighteen-year old Barry adjusted the red bandana on his head, and made a slashing motion across his throat with his finger.

Bobby froze. Today, his sixteenth birthday, he had to prove he was man to join the gang. He had to prove he was tough enough. Greasy brown hair flopped against multiple zits, as Bobby clutched the cold, steel knife in his hand. Sweat poured down his neck while his mates stared him down. Heart skipping, Bobby turned to face the old ladies.

Please don’t do this, my sister is recovering from surgery! Seventy-year-old Mabel moved closer to her older sister’s bed. The oxygen pump hummed and whined on the wall beside the old woman’s bed. Crippled from arthritis, Mabel was unable to fully stand upright. The broom handle she held within her twisted fingers pointed toward him.

Please...

Bobby cringed. His heart pounded against his ribcage, as bile filled his mouth. He coughed hard. Vomit landed at her feet. I can’t, he screamed. He thrust the knife toward Barry, but missed. A searing pain tore through his side. Hot blood spewed onto his arm, and across the wall. Bobby’s fist made contact with Reggie’s mouth, and sent his wolf tooth and a front tooth flying, and blood and spit followed. He stared straight into his new friend’s eyes.

Blood dripping down his chest, Reggie mumbled, I had to...

Bobby raised his knife and lunged toward him.

His face ashen, Reggie grabbed at the knife. The blade sliced through the thick pad of flesh on Reggie’s palm. His blood splattered as he flung the knife through the open window into the pitch-black yard with a guttural yell.

Barry raised his arm. His knife sliced across Bobby’s neck, and he plowed over him. With a howl, he slashed his knife into Mabel’s chest. She fell backward, screaming.

Bobby tried to reach for Barry but collapsed.

Reggie grabbed a small towel from the bedside table and pressed it against his gums. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Barry turn on Ruthie. He froze.

Unable to move from her bed, Ruthie closed her eyes and prayed.

Bobby roared out, rolled over, and struggled to stand... The room went black.

Chapter Three

Early Spring 2010

I’ve had just about enough, Toby, Arnie said, his face contorted and red. You just showed your hand. I’m on to you. There isn’t anything wrong with you, you just want attention. Well, you’re gonna get it, in spades.

Toby slammed the truck door. He kicked the rocks in the driveway, sending one flying against the back bumper. He didn’t apologize. A hard shove against the old front door, and he disappeared inside.

Arnie yanked his jacket from the seat. The deep breath in didn’t calm his nerves. Gravel crunched under his heavy work boots. Blue chalk, and bits of sawdust fell from his sleeves as he unrolled them. He hadn’t had time to change at work, he had almost been late to pick Toby up at school for his doctor appointment. He slammed the driver’s door, and grumbled low.

Inside, Claire sat on the floor of laundry room, sorting the clean clothes.

The twins played outside on the swing set, laughing at one of their frequent inside jokes that annoyed their father to no end.

Arnie ignored them, strode inside, pointed to the living room, and snapped his fingers.

Claire’s eyebrows pinched down, and she slammed the shirts onto the pile. She moved slow, stalling for time to let Arnie cool off from whatever had happened at the doctor this time.

How did it go? she said with a false smile, as she peeked out the window to check on the girls.

He didn’t bother to look up from the stack of mail on the counter. Silent, he continued to sort the many late notices, and roughly blew his breath out. He tossed a few more letters on the stack, then slid his hand fast against the pile, and sent them flying across the kitchen floor.

Her eyes round, she dashed to pick them up.

Leave them. Go sit down.

She scrunched her lips to stop herself from telling him to ‘kiss her ass’, plopped down on the worn sofa, and waited for the usual lecture.

I cancelled the rest of his appointments. They aren’t doing any good.

She started to speak.

He raised his hand. I don’t want to hear it. He’s playing you. There isn’t anything wrong with him. He’s making it all up, don’t you see that? He just wants attention, so I grounded him. He can start work at the jobsite on Saturday.

Toby’s bedroom door slammed.

Saturday? He has art class at the recreation center. He loves that class! He gets to make his comic books, and the doctor said that’s an outlet he needs...

Not anymore. He has a better outlet now, a job.

He’s only 10. He can’t work. What is wrong with you? Claire stood up, her heart racing. On the verge of tears, she felt faint, and slid back down onto the sofa.

Arnie tossed his jacket onto the arm chair, and shuffled to the bathroom to shower, leaving her staring, mouth agape.

Oh, what have you done? She raced to the phone, dialed the psychiatrist’s office, and prayed it wasn’t too late...

Dinnertime was awkward at best.

The twins squealed about a new nail polish color that one of their friends had received, and they just had to have it.

Toby pouted, and refused to eat. He stared out the window, his eyes glassed over.

Claire watched Arnie as he shoveled the mashed potatoes into his mouth. His face grew a deeper crimson by the moment. She quieted the girls, but it only lasted a few seconds, and they giggled and fidgeted in their seats.

Heather’s elbow came in contact with her water, sending it to the floor. She screamed as the plastic cup twirled around, and drops splattered the wall.

Arnie’s fist pounded on the table. That’s it! I’ve had it with you two. Get up and get that cleaned, and get the hell out of my sight.

Heather screamed again, and dashed to her room.

Crystal grabbed the towel, and tried to wipe up the water.

Toby snatched the towel from her hand. Scoot, he said, motioning to the girl’s room.

She fled, and slammed the door behind her.

Toby bowed up. It was an accident.

Arnie stared.

Claire recovered from her shock, and jumped between them.

Don’t you mouth me, boy.

It was an accident, Toby repeated through clenched teeth.

In an instant, Arnie jumped up, and shoved Claire out of his way, sending her spinning. She slammed face first against the wall. His palm connected with Toby’s cheek, as he said, Don’t you challenge me, ever again.

Claire forced herself away from the wall. The room spun. Get out. Get out of here now.

Arnie glared at her. His fist tightened. He grabbed his jacket, wallet, and keys, and stomped out the door.

Are you okay?

Toby shook his head, shoved her hand away, and dashed to his room.

Claire slid down onto the floor, and cried out.

Toby’s fists pounded the door to his room.

The twins wailed.

Darkness enveloped the home that Claire had fought so hard to obtain for her family, but no one cared what she was going through.

Chapter Four

Spring Break 2013

Dark paneling, black out curtains, and the smell of leather greeted Toby as he entered the psychiatrist’s office. His stomach in knots, he said, I don’t feel good.

Claire patted his shoulder as she guided him to the deep, cold, padded chair in front of the doctor’s steel desk. I know. Just hang in there.

He sunk down in the chair, crossed his arms over his chest, tucked his chin down, and closed his