Theinkwell fiction challenge | Week 12: Alley AND At the End

in The Ink Well4 years ago (edited)

A Preacher, a Killer, and Some Cats and Dogs Went Into an Alley ...

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Part 1: The Preacher

Every week, and sometimes twice, Rev. Gordon of Big Loft, VA's Church in the Midst of Life drove from his church in downtown Big Loft to the county jail to see his church's most infamous visitor.

She had attended services the week she had turned herself in, and had sat quietly in the company of himself and the church's co-pastor, Rev. Baxter, before the police had arrived.

They never would have known who she was had she not made a complete confession of her devastating crimes.

Ms. Bowler had surrendered, and that should have been the end of her career. But then, there had been an incident where a deputy sheriff was supposed to transport Ms. Bowler to a facility for killers like her from the county jail, but had instead taken her to his house to obtain sexual favors from her as he had 47 women before her.

The outcome of Deputy Randy's attempt was predictable. What was not was that Darcy Bowler had turned herself in a second time, and was back at the county jail.

Rev. Gordon considered this as he heard the news, and then turned to Rev. Baxter.

“Darius Bowler must have been one of the greatest single fathers that has ever lived,” he said, “because look at how his daughter is behaving now. She's a narcissistic sociopath refusing to excuse her crimes and insisting on taking responsibility. It's unheard of. The Marine in her is kicking in – better late even if far too late than never. But with that I also think that the Father Who is Captain Bowler's Father and ours must also be taking a hand in the matter with Darcy.”

“I agree,” Rev. Baxter said. “Captain Bowler did his best, but add 10-15 years to that, and there's no reason all that he taught her should be kicking in now unless another hand is stirring it up – and it can't be either one of ours because she didn't know any of us when she turned herself in the first time, and she started coming here and sitting in the daily services we were having that week two days before turning herself in.”

“Yes – but see, this is why God led us to have the church open every day – like I'm always saying, we just don't know who may need to come here and hear the Gospel on any given day, or at least come to terms with what they understand of turning from a life of sin.”

“It just staggers me to think that she was here that week, making up her mind about everything,” Rev. Baxter said. “I remember seeing her in the chapel and the garden that week, just quietly sitting and thinking, or listening to the sermon, or talking with the counselors at lunch. Onyx tells me she peeked in on the lunch with the battered women's ministry too, and gave a big donation.”

“Captain Bowler raised her in church, and as long as he lived, she was active in church – halfway through college,” Rev. Gordon said. “From what I have learned talking to her, she likes church, and attends all the services put on by the ministries who go to the county jails.”

“It's actually a bit disturbing that she likes church and is a serial killer,” Rev. Baxter said. “We pastors and preachers have dropped the ball somewhere … but then again, serial slave owners liked church, so, never mind.”

“That ball was dropped a long time ago,” Rev. Gordon said, “but consider this, my brother: she was convicted and convinced by the Lord and Gospel enough here to put a permanent end to all the killing and turn herself in. You and I don't ever play pattycake about sin, righteousness, and judgment. I get the feeling Captain Bowler didn't either, but he probably didn't understand the depth of the illness of his daughter, and probably thought she was saved because apparently she lived to please him until the day he died trying to save others on September 11, 2001.”

“And in the next 18 years she showed she wasn't saved,” Rev. Baxter said. “I see why the Lord took Captain Bowler. This situation would have destroyed him emotionally.”

“Maybe it wouldn't have happened the same way,” Rev. Gordon said. “She is extremely submissive – she must have worshiped her father because you don't get that in a woman her age if she didn't. He acted as her conscience – he provided that measuring rod for her, and she obeyed as long as he held it.

“To a point, she continued to obey her father's measuring rod. All these women with a few men around the world putting into a crowdfund for her defense now – she took care of the people under her, everywhere. Her downline in that MLM she and the other Beauty Killers destroyed – they all got out of the building safely, and they all made good money in the business. She took care of the caterers upstairs in Skylark Hall, making sure they had a head start getting out because they weren't connected with anything. That's not classic narcissistic behavior – narcissists don't care about other people. But that's good behavior by the daughter of a Marine, to make sure people who are not the target don't get hurt.”

“I remember what she was saying when she was here,” Rev. Baxter said. “She conflates her father's memory with her conscience to this day.”

“And when she came here, she may have heard the Gospel her father taught her in a clear, simple way for the first time since his death,” Rev. Gordon said. “Now of course a serial killer's idea of repentance is neither our idea nor God's idea … shooting your confederates in the head and packing them up in your trunk so you can turn them in too is just not it!”

Rev. Baxter shook his head.

“When you live in sin long enough, good and evil do start to get confused in your mind,” he said.

“If that isn't the understatement of the century – and, even today, this wannabe rapist deputy sheriff met the confusion head on!” Rev. Gordon said, and put his head in his hands for a long moment.

“Deputy Joe Randy was a straight dedicated plumb fool,” Rev. Baxter said. “Darcy Bowler is an entire and lethal serial killer – you force a woman like that into self-defense, and what does anybody expect? But look: that wasn't murder. That was self-defense. She wouldn't have bothered him if he hadn't bothered her.”

“You have a point there,” Rev. Gordon said.

He thought about it, and then got up.

“This isn't my normal day to go visit, but I need to go check on her. I don't care what kind of woman it is: a rape attempt is something that no woman should have to go through. Darcy needs to know that God's people do care at a time like this. Maybe she'll want to talk about all that happened today.”

Part 2: The Killer

Ms. Darcy Bowler's smile could make you feel welcomed anywhere – she was pleasantly surprised to see Rev. Gordon when he came up to the jail, and had no trouble letting him know with that smile even before she spoke.

“I thought you might come check on me today,” she said. “You're such a caring, fatherly person.”

Ms. Bowler was the same age as Rev. Gordon's youngest daughter. His heart thus had broken and gone out to her at the same time he had been horrified by her crimes at their first meeting … but he had determined to do for her, in spite of his fear of her, what he hoped some brave Christian minister would do for any of his daughters if they somehow went astray and landed in jail.

Rev. Gordon's adopted – and extremely dangerous – prodigal was a beautiful young woman, with big blue eyes, curly blond hair, and a sweet face. She had been a college basketball player and had all the size and strength that went with that, but Rev. Gordon still saw the daughterly elements in her, and had paid attention as Ms. Bowler, who described herself as a “self-aware narcissistic sociopath,” still described her own father who raised her, marine Captain Darius Bowler, with deep love and admiration.

Darius Bowler's DNA and twenty years of training still were having an effect on his daughter – she had turned herself in after a ten-year record of killing because all the killing she felt needed to be done was done, and she would not allow herself or her partners to do any more.

Rev. Gordon had watched as Ms. Bowler had bonded – in a way – with the police officer most like her father in the room, a man who had come to the police force after a decorated career in the Army, a man with a deep compassionate side in addition to his brilliant investigative work.

So, Rev. Gordon figured that there was still room for a father figure in Ms. Bowler's life. Captain Bowler had left a solid foundation to build on. Rev. Gordon would do his best.

“Not a good day today, huh, Darcy?” he said. “I'm so sorry you had to go through an attempt at rape.”

“It was not a good day at all,” she said, “but I made the most of it. I was not raped, and now, the sheriff's department will have to stop letting it happen to the women it transports to other facilities. The price for Joe Henry to stop at 47 women was for him to join my list – so I made the most of the occasion.”

“That had to be difficult.”

“Not at all,” she said. “You're a serial Gospel preacher and teacher, Rev. Gordon. You breathe salvation by grace through faith in Jesus Christ. You weave it in and out of your discourse constantly. It's not difficult for you.

“I'm serial too. Just a different kind. You do life. I do death. It's not difficult at all. What is hard is stopping, just like it would be hard for you to have an extended conversation without mentioning the Gospel.”

“Right … I wish I were as proficient as you, and I would gladly share my areas of incompetence with you if I could.”

Ms. Bowler smiled.

“That was so nice how you said that, Rev. Gordon.”

“So, I know why you turned yourself in the first time,” he said. “Why the second time?”

“It was necessary so that I stay out of the general public, and so people would believe me and do what needs to be done in the sheriff's department.”

“You could have just knocked Deputy Randy out and tied him up and done the same thing.”

She thought about this, and then shook her head with a chuckle.

“You know, I never thought about that. Force of habit.”

“Yes, Darcy. I know. Vengeance is a force of habit in terms of motive, I notice.”

“Somebody has to do it. The people I have murdered were serial rapists, serial con men, serial criminals no one else was going to catch.”

Rev. Gordon considered this a long time.

“The life of judge, jury, and executioner is hard, Darcy. I know that you accept your punishment and are going to plead guilty, and that you know you are going to end your life either in prison or finally making it to the front of the line on Virginia's death row. It makes me sad, because it was all so unnecessary.”

“What do you mean, Rev. Gordon?”

She honestly did not understand; those big blue eyes were wide with anticipation. That was the thing about Ms. Bowler; in some ways, she was still that little girl, still wanting to learn from Daddy.

“May I tell you a story, Darcy?” Rev. Gordon said.

“Please do.”

Alley Cats, Alley Dogs, and the Gospel

“I grew up in a rough time period in Lofton County – the civil rights movement was just starting out, and it was bad times to be a Black person even daring to walk with your head up in certain towns.

“There was a particular back alley in Miniopolis down the road from here, and a gang of boys called the Alley Cats Gang – they enjoyed nothing better on a Sunday afternoon than to drag a young Black man back and beat him half to death or drag a young Black woman back and gang-rape her, while howling like the dogs in the enclosure at the end of the alley. That was what made it so bad – those were fighting dogs, and always kept hungry, so, if the gang got you back there and blocked your path back to the street, the only way to escape was through the fighting dog yard. So, between the Alley Cats and the alley's dogs, what were you supposed to do?”

“I would have let the dogs live,” Ms. Bowler said, “but not the Alley Cats.”

“Yes, but, you're not a Black woman, living in the early 1950s in rural southern Virginia,” Rev. Gordon said. “If you were, and you had tried defending yourself as you did with Deputy Randy, your family might not have made it out of Lofton County alive.

“So, the beatings and rapes went on, and on, and on – none of the parents of these boys had a problem with their 'fun,' and a lot of people thought it was good to 'keep the Negroes fearful and in check.' ”

“I know that you edited what you just said,” Ms. Bowler said with a smile. “People were not that nice about Black people back then.”

“Nobody cared in the least bit,” Rev. Gordon said. “So, time went by. Everybody knew what was going on – I was a little boy, but I remember hearing the dogs howling and barking and the screams at least once a month, and it would always frighten me.”

“And then, it all stopped. I remember the change as if it were yesterday. No screaming, no barking, nothing.”

Rev. Gordon paused.

“Nobody told me for years what I am about to tell you right now.”

Ms. Bowler leaned forward in anticipation.

“The Alley Cats had been having so much of their fun that they hadn't noticed – the dogs trying to get at them and their victims were held back by the fence at the end of the alley, but the fence had been giving way, bit by bit. So, the previous Sunday morning, the dogs had broken through the fence … and no one came to check because they were used to hearing and ignoring the screams for help and the howling and the barking.”

“So the Alley Cats were eaten up by the alley's dogs,” Ms. Bowler said.

“That was the start. Those dogs roamed the town afterward and savaged it – those out and about who had enjoyed their Sunday afternoon while ignoring all that noise now were the victims of the dogs. The sheriff's department had to hunt all those dogs down and kill them before it stopped.”

“The whole town was punished,” Ms. Bowler said.

“You see how divine vengeance works even in the absence of proper human justice,” Rev. Gordon said. “Had you been there and intervened as you do so well, you would have been in the way.”

Ms. Bowler thought about this a long time.

“That is a lot to think about, Rev. Gordon,” she said. “I'm sure the Black community in Lofton County would have still thought I was late, though.”

“I would have thought you were late,” Rev. Gordon said. “From a human perspective, God takes His time and presses our limited patience to its breaking point. He does this on purpose, since He knows the end from the beginning and does everything perfectly. Miniopolis never ignored such things again, and was the first of the towns to open to civil rights.

“But don't overlook the fact that He presses human patience to the breaking point. Those who know and trust Him in Christ are given his Spirit to give us the patience to keep trusting in Him – but He has eternity before Him to deal with the enemies of righteousness, and in every way His wrath is wearing out those who meet unrighteousness with unrighteousness.”

“Impatience, hatred, and murder,” Ms. Bowler said, “meeting each other.”

“Now, you understand sin, and your sins, Darcy.”

She thought about this and then said with surprise in her voice, “Yes … I sort of do, now.”

“One step further. God already knew what you would do. The Lord Jesus died for all of those sins on the cross – they are paid for already, and if you were to trust in Christ as Savior, His righteousness would be credited to your account and His payment for your sins accepted by God His Father. And, from the perspective of those who had done the things that caused you to go after them, judgment indeed came that way for them. God permitted it – but in the same way He counts it a sin for you to have taken His place as the avenger, He also knew that you taking that place would take you to the place that you would be operating at the level of a half-starving savage dog, hungry for blood.”

Ms. Bowler's pretty face became troubled.

“It is hard for a narcissist to be told she's a b-i-t-c-h,” she said, and Rev. Gordon saw a bit of a pout.

“I didn't tell you that,” he said. “But see, my daughter, you do have a conscience, and it is accusing you now.”

Ms. Bowler pouted a little more, and then had another thought that caused her to shudder.

“I just remembered something,” she said. “A dream about mad dogs … it was what came to mind when I realized Barbara and Judith didn't want to stop killing. They had become ravenous, and they wanted to keep terrorizing, keep killing, even when we had killed all that were necessary … they would have gone on and on.”

“That is what sin does, Darcy,” Rev. Gordon said. “It reduces its followers to ravening slaves of their own lusts. But now consider this. You looked at what your partners were becoming, and you turned yourself in as opposed to going down that path. Why do you think that happened?”

“I just couldn't do it. I am Captain Darius Bowler's daughter. He would understand me completing my mission, but he wouldn't understand me going beyond that. If I turned myself in, people would understand how he had done a good job and wouldn't blame him. If I went any further, there would be no protecting his name and reputation. He was worth a lot more than what I have become, but I couldn't do the final damage. I just couldn't.”

Rev. Gordon heard that and realized: Darcy Bowler was not going to death row. The woman was insane … at the end, after ten years of killing, she thought she could still protect her father's reputation. Just as soon as someone did a thorough examination, they would realize it – and she was so beautiful, and presented as so feminine in spite of her unusual size, that the rules would be bent. Virginia was not prepared that one in its own image – a submissive, virginal-seeming White woman with huge blue eyes and blond hair – should face execution.

Still, Rev. Gordon did not allow himself to get off his point.

“But where did you get the strength to turn yourself in, knowing that you would never be free again?”

Ms. Bowler stopped and thought for a long time.

“I don't know. It came to me that it was the right thing to do and that I should do it, and that … and that in this way I would please my father and find peace. The people here on the women's side are upright and honest, and they take decent care of us, so I am content here and do not feel that I need to kill anyone. Living in a world full of corrupt people that need killing while human justice cannot catch up is overrated – I feel more free here, and I feel more free when people like you come around.”

“Here's another thought. You are Darius Bowler's daughter. Ever thought that because of all his prayers, maybe Darius Bowler's Heavenly Father is drawing you to Himself, and giving you strength to turn from sin to Him in Christ, and truly find freedom even in this lifelong captivity you must endure? You're tripping and falling on the way, of course … ”

Ms. Bowler smiled.

“I was always bad about that,” she said. “I got big too quick for my coordination when I was a toddler, so I was always flopping around.”

Ms. Bowler had “flopped” three people on her way to giving herself up twice. Still, the pattern sort of held.

“Think about it, Darcy. Here we are, the old doddering preacher and the last of the Beauty Killers, and you walked into my office to turn yourself in. What are the chances of that unless your father's Father is involved, working all that out?”

“That's a whole lot to think about, Rev. Gordon,” Ms. Bowler said. “But, I have nothing but time.”

“I'll be back next week,” the reverend said. “If you want to talk about this in the meantime, send me a letter, and I'll write you back.”

“Oh, I can't have any sharp items like a pen or a pencil,” she said. “Occupational hazard for everyone around me.”

“Oh – right. I'm sorry – I forgot. Since I'm not in your target group, it is hard to keep that totally in mind.”

“It's all right, Reverend,” she said, with that same sweet smile as at the beginning. “I'll see you whenever you come, and be glad to talk with you again.”

She paused.

“My mother was a narcissistic sociopath too,” she said, “but I don't think she ever thought she could change or ever wanted to. She committed suicide rather than admit she was wrong in how she treated my father and me and come back to him. But she didn't raise me. My father did.”

“I know,” Rev. Gordon said. “You see how God, the Heavenly Father, chose a different path for you even then. You cannot help inheriting your mother's thoroughly evil nature, and you chose to indulge it to the fullest – but the Lord made sure that you would have a different foundation than your mother had from the beginning. You cannot avoid the consequences of your sins down here, and you shouldn't. And I know you don't feel remorse because you can't, or at least, you don't know how yet.

“But God never said you had to feel anything about what you know. Believing on the Lord Jesus Christ is not about a feeling – it is about what you know. You are a sinner. You know that. You deserve punishment here and everlasting. You know that. The Bible says that the Lord Jesus Christ died on the cross for your sins, was buried, and rose on the third day, and that if you believe that His work is enough all by itself for your salvation from sin and your reconciliation with God, He will save you from your sin and put you in His family – you will become a child of God, although your consequences here will not change.

“So: you know the claim. Your feelings may never change about anything you have done – you are handicapped in that respect through no fault of your own. But you know the claim, and you can either believe it, or not believe it.”

“It is starting to make sense to me,” she said. “I mean, I know everything about what you are saying, but at last it is starting to make a little sense.”

“That's what us serial Gospel preachers are for, just to explain,” Rev. Gordon said, putting on his hat. “God Himself by His Spirit will help you get a better understanding. Meanwhile, I'll be back next week, and I'll go through it again with you if you want.”

She started laughing.

“A serial killer meets a serial Gospel preacher – and likes him!” she said. “What a crazy situation this is!”

Rev. Gordon laughed at that too.

“Yes, Darcy, I guess it is pretty crazy,” he said. “As my wife says, who but God woulda thunk it? See you next week.”

Image by christels from Pixabay

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I liked that :) A lot of humour in a serious and dark story and, of course, I want to know more about the Beauty Killers and what they were up to.

Coming this week ... a lot of people have asked, so, I'll do a recap ...

I loved this chapter. It was so nicely written. I really liked the way the Reverend made Ms. Bowler understand things. Very interesting the narration about the history of the dog's alley as a metaphor.

I also find interesting Ms. Bowlers stories. I'd like to read the others.

Ms. Bowler is a character revealed at the end of a LONG novel that I did in serially in Freewriters in May ... I've got SO MANY people asking about her I may need to do an early release of the full PDF ... BUT, as far as the Ink Well goes, there are three in the series, and this is No. 2.

No. 1: You Had ONE JOB

No. 3: A Long, Strange Trip To Go and Sin No More

This is a question for @shanibeer and @jayna ... I know there is interest in getting Darcy Bowler's whole backstory ... the novel she is in is literally SEVEN books deep in a series due to be up on Amazon, and once stuff gets there, there's a "lock-up period" on other distribution almost as long as it takes to power down HP on Hive (12 weeks!). You LITERALLY cannot have a full book distributed anywhere else, and since nothing can come off a blockchain, I could not make the full story available as a single post in Hive and still stay on schedule there. But because The Mystery of Iniquity is seven down the line and only the first book is in place, maybe we can figure out something less permanent until the story's turn comes up on Amazon...

We need to look at this @deeanndmathews and see how we can get the best arrangement for The Ink Well writers so they benefit from synchronising publishing on Hive with publishing elsewhere.

Are you on discord? Please private message me: shanibeer#7523