Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-9041013-20190213101433

A little note: The story is set in the eighties and refers to events from even earlier.



Connor Kane was evil incarnate.

Nobody had known this about him, however, as Connor successfully lead a double life. He was your average policeman during the night, but at night he was a person’s worst nightmare. He killed thirteen people and raped over fifty in a decade and was never caught or even suspected once.

Connor Kane did what he did because he had urges to exert control over and to hurt others, urges he had had since his childhood. He controlled these urges for nearly two decades until he had to use force to detain an armed robber. That’s when he realized just how good it felt to instill fear into the hearts of men.

They’ve called him The Golden State Demon once he gained notoriety. Seeing as how he victimized people with seemingly supernatural abilities throughout California, the name appeared fitting. Connor knew not to stay for too long in a single location, thus frequently asked to be transferred around the counties of the state. He also knew to avoid being predictable and thus chose various weapons and picked his victims randomly.

He would stalk a person or a couple for weeks on end gathering as much information on them to make his assault as seamless as possible. Frequently using his gathered information to leave misleading clues behind. He would usually break in quietly into one-store houses in the dead of night followed by him searching for any personal documentation of his victims so he could pretend to be someone they knew from their private life.

He assaulted most of his rape victims in the presence of a spouse or a partner, sometimes even in the presence of the victim’s children. Connor would tie his victims and their partners with shoelaces and force them to lay on their stomachs, then he’d place any available ceramic objects on the partner’s back before threatening that he’d kill one of them if he heard the ceramics rattle.

He forced the complete majority to watch their loved ones getting raped, unable to do anything about it. They would like there, frozen in fear, begging internally for the nightmare to come to an end.

It wouldn’t end there.

Sometimes he’d kill the people had been terrorizing, other times, he’d just stand there, in the dark corner of their room for hours before leaving, making sure they knew the demon was still haunting them.

Connor Kane’s evil knew no boundaries, as once he raided the house of a married couple at a night during which their young daughter was sleeping with them. The demon tied up the little girl’s parents before pulling out a handgun and instructing the girl to lay face down in between them and stare at the wall. He then told her with a menacing whisper, “If you move as much as a finger, daddy dies.”

After that, he violated her mother in front of her and her father. The little girl held down tears and tried with all of her might not move, she did not want to anger the man who held a gun to her father’s head.

The father kept whispering under his breath for his daughter to stay strong and not move.

She held out for a while, but then an itch crawled up her leg. The little girl tried to ignore it as hard as she could, but it only grew worse, making its way up her thigh, growing into an almost painful sensation. It was driving her insane, but she knew she couldn’t move. She knew if she moved as much as a fiber of her body, the bad man would notice and then kill her father.

Seconds became minutes, and the sensation was unbearable.

The girl broke, she twitched her little leg, barely an inch.

The demon noticed.

A muffled shot rang through the room.

Blood and brain matter caked the girl and her mother.

These were things of the past for Connor however, as with the birth of his fourth child, he decided to keep that part of his life behind him. Sure, he was never the perfect father or husband, but he had never raised his arms against his family. Sure, he was an ill-tempered and violent man, but in his civil life, he would usually reserve his violence on the verbal side of things. Sure, his neighbors avoided him out of fear, but mostly, he did not seem exactly murderous to those around him.

Just a little violent.

Had they only known.

Had they only known just how much he enjoys their fear, just like an actual demon. All of that changed during a town hall meeting that included a few policemen, including Connor and a transfer officer named Jeffrey Bishop. Before the beginning of the meeting, Connor read up on the news about a new serial killer on the state’s west coast, one that left his victims in shreds. They’ve named this savage “The West Coast Werewolf” because of his brutal way of dismembering his victims. It seemed as if an animal had torn out chunks of flesh out of their bodies, leaving behind barely recognizable pulps of bile and gore.

Connor attended the meeting mostly, so he could know if there were any leads on him. As he expected, there were none. He made sure he wouldn’t leave any clues leading back to himself. Something caught his attention amidst the conversation about his alter ego; it was Officer Bishop who had proposed that the fabled Golden State Demon was not a single man but rather a group of connected individuals or copycat criminals since in his mind there was no way a man could commit so many atrocities without being caught or compromised by one of his victims.

It seemed absurd to an outsider; it seemed almost impossible.

That’s what set the gears in Connor’s head off again, the urges came back upon hearing the words of his newest colleague. He felt disrespected and needed to prove to the newcomer who’s in charge.

Connor was nearing his fortieth year and had four kids and a wife at home. He knew he couldn’t keep up his double life for a long time. Thus, he decided that Bishop would be his final victim, a last hoorah for the beast before he could bury it in the depths of his mind for good.

And so, he set out to strike out a friendship with Jeffrey Bishop, one so tight he could know just about anything one would need to know to slip past the man’s defenses, and into his bedroom at the middle of the night. For months Connor made his way up to Jeffrey’s heart and eventually they became best friends, at least from Jeffrey’s point of view. Connor, he considered no one to be his friend. Luckily enough for him, no one seemed to notice his change of heart when it came to his new and only friend. He spent most of his time hanging out with his new pal which prevented him from being verbally abusive towards others.

A win-win situation for everyone, or so it seemed.

After months of preparation, Connor Kane was ready to strike down his final victim; he decided to victimize Bishop himself while forcing his wife to watch. By this point, he had known the layout of the Bishop family’s home by heart. He knew their kid; Michael had a soundproof room. Connor knew all of Jeffrey’s secrets. He knew where the safe was and he was pretty sure he had known the code to it. Their dog loved him. However, he knew the Bishops had a spare key under their doormat.

Jeffrey had shown it to him some time ago when he got locked outside once. With his plan set, Connor opted to make his move on the night of Valentine’s Day. He found the notion romantic to a point that it made him laugh. The days passed and Valentine's Day finally arrived, Connor, trying to be the best husband he can for a change took his wife out on a celebratory date. She enjoyed it. They had a good time together, something they hadn’t had in a while.

The hours flew by them and at nightfall, once his wife was sound asleep, along with the kids, Connor got out of his bed, readied himself and left for the Bishops’ house. Stealing a bicycle from someone’s yard, he made his way through the streets under the covers of darkness. As mind was blank, focused on one thing, taking over the Bishops’ lives and making them his bitches. A stark contrast to the loving husband and father he had been just hours before. The Golden State Demon may have started out as a common killer but in his years of experience, he had become the perfect murder machine.

Connor could not wait until he would get his hands on Jeffrey and Brenda Bishop, he could feel himself salivating at the prospect of what he had in store for them. He made it to the street on which the Bishops lived, but then discarded the bicycle and proceeded to make his way to their home on foot. Soon enough he reached the house and found the family German Shepherd, Deacon, in a terrified state. Connor had no idea what could scare the dog but he paid no mind to it. After all, he was the boogeyman in the eyes of many. He was the thing in the dark. He was the thing everyone told their children about to make sure they behaved. He was, in his own mind, a god.

Connor made his way to the front door, took the key from underneath the doormat and slowly unlocked the door. He then patiently made his way to the bedroom in which he knew the Bishops had been sleeping.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he opened the door to their bedroom as to not wake them up prematurely. Once the door was ajar just enough for him to slip through, he slid his frame through the opening and quietly paced towards the bed in the center of the room.

Once close enough to the bed, he poked at Jeffrey Bishop’s arm, “Jeff… wake up…” he whispered as he pulled out his gun.

But no response came.

He called out the man’s name again.

Still… not a sound.

Fury coursed through his veins as Connor kicked the side of the Bishops’ bed screaming, “Wake the fuck up!”

Still, no sound came, nor a movement, the Bishops didn’t budge at all.

It was like they didn’t feel Connor’s kick.

Connor grabbed Jeffrey’s body by the neck and yanked him off the bed onto the floor with tremendous force. That’s when he felt it. A warm liquid made its way through his gloves and he let go of Jeffrey’s body. Cursing under his breath.

“Fuck… Shit… What the…” he cursed as he pulled out his flashlight and shone it around the room.

The sight that was unraveled before him sent shock waves of adrenaline across his body; the bodies of Jeffrey and Brenda Bishop were mangled and torn apart. Brenda’s torso was torn wide open with her ribs torn outwards and her guts spilled all over the bed below her. Her neck was torn up as well. Jeffrey’s body was in no better shape; his neck was torn apart chest cavity was collapsed inwards, with the heart and one lung missing from the grotesque, unnatural cavity.

Connor felt fear, for the first time in years. He hadn’t felt that since that night when he saw his father beat his own brother to death with his own bare hands. The sight of his bloodied uncle tied up to a chair, as his drunken father beats on him with his fists and legs flooded Connor's psyche, making him grasp at his head as he stumbled away from the crimson-colored bed.

That night was when Connor realized that the feeling of power over others is the best feeling in the world.

His father only beat his uncle to death only because that was his uncle’s death wish upon discovery of his alcoholism leading to the development of a terminal illness, but by the time he found that out, Connor Kane was far too gone. Connor never seemed to grasp the fact that this violent act

of mercy tormented that his father. His father, he shot himself before Connor’s eyes when he was just twelve.

The boy was destined to become what he had turned out to be; a monster who cannot handle being out of absolute control.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you, you fucking coward!”, Connor yelled out into the air as he waved his gun around.

Despite the emotional turmoil he was experiencing, the man knew he was dealing with the West Coast Werewolf. He had seen the photos of the crime scenes left by that animal. The Bishops’ bodies looked the same as all the others.

Connor snapped, he tore off his ski mask and screamed at the top of his lungs, “Police! Show yourself!” As he marched around the house with his gun aimed forward. He knew if the werewolf was still in the house, he’d have to apprehend or kill him. There was no other way around it. But after long moments of frantic searching, Connor couldn’t find anything. He had one last room to check, Michael’s.

“You’re fucking dead!” Connor spat as he made his way towards the child’s room. He pressed one of his hands on the handle and carefully pushed it down. The door creaked slightly as he pushed it open. Connor then made his way quietly into the room, and it was dark

Almost unnaturally dark.

Connor with his eyes around the room, but he could find nothing but a peacefully sleeping child inside.

“Fuck!” he whispered as quietly as he could before lowering his gun and making his way out of the room. The werewolf, he was gone.

That’s what Connor thought when the door behind him creaked, and he froze; turning his head back slowly he saw something dark crawl out of the room. It crawled on all fours in movements that mesmerized the diabolical policeman.

He carelessly opened fire on the ever-approaching creature. Every single bullet hit, creating new cavities in the beast's body

It wouldn’t stop moving towards Connor, not even with an array of new cavities in its body. The commotion woke Michael up and upon seeing the child; the policeman yelled at him to get back to his room. Before the kid could even register his words, the beast lunged itself at Connor slamming hard into the ground.

The boy screamed at the top of his lungs.

The beast, unrelenting, grabbed at Connor’s body before throwing it over its own head with inhuman strength.

Connor crushed hard on the floor next to a panicking child. The landing caused him to spit blood, as he began getting back up to his feet, he came to notice the large humanoid creature looming over him with various wounds still closing themselves up.

“So, you’re a real werewolf or somethin’, eh?!” Connor blurted out as he spat on the floor, looking around for his gun which had been knocked away from him.

“Not quite the werewolf,” the thing retorted in a deep clear voice.

Connor then tried to punch the creature, but it caught his arm, crushing it with its grip. The agonizing pain forced the policeman to wail out. The beast then punched Connor so hard in the chest that a loud cracking noise filled the hallway. Connor lost his breath and coughed up more blood as he flew back to the floor.

Rolling around in pain, his eyes met Michael’s mortified stare, “Run, kid…” he murmured out before trying to force himself up back to his feet. His whole body exploding with pain and his head clouded from a clear lack of oxygen.

Michael just stood there, frozen, he wouldn’t move, he couldn’t.

Connor staggered back to his feet and tried to shove the child back into his room, but the beast caught his arms from behind and pulled them backward causing the man to drop to his knees as he cries in pain. The beast the proceeded to place its foot onto Connor’s back yanking slightly at the arms. The man begged for mercy but the beast wouldn’t relent and with a mighty crack; the arms were torn off and thrown to the floor.

Connor sank to the floor as two streams of lightning bolts made up of pain struck him at his sides.

Connor began to slip into unconsciousness as the beast grabbed him by the back of his neck and bit his head off before throwing it aside.

The Demon of the Golden State was dead; it was a rather painless one; he felt nothing anymore the moment two rows of jagged teeth sunk into his neck.

After discarding Connor’s head aside, the beast stared at Michael and smiled, a wide bloody toothy grin and Michael, well, he smiled back as he stared around wide-eyed at the carnage that covered the entirety of the hall.

“Good job, kiddo!” The beast remarked to the child.

“Thanks! I still can’t believe Uncle Connor was the mean man…” the child answered.

The blood-covered monstrosity made his way towards the child and picked him up on its hands, saying, “Well, sometimes the people you think you know the best, are the ones you should be wary of…”

“Ahh… I’m sooo tired of pretending to be scared of you, Mister Upir, I wanna go back to sleep,” the boy called out weakly clutching at the monster’s frame.

“Off to bed you go, then!” the monster called as it carried the child back to his room.

“Thanks for saving mommy and daddy… Mister Upir… You’re the best…” The boy said between tired yawns.

“Don’th menthion ith…” the words came out slurred because of an excessive build-up of saliva.

Soon enough, the ungodly shrieks of a child being torn into chunks of blood and pulp in his own bedroom awoke the whole neighborhood. 