The Candy Man. Chapter 6

Grant was a 20-year-old young man, who embodied the archetype of the all-American jock. With his athletic build, charming smile, and charismatic personality, Grant effortlessly captured the attention of those around him. He radiated confidence and carried himself with the ease of someone who has excelled in both sports and social circles.

Grant’s athletic prowess was most evident in his accomplishments as a wrestler. With a dedicated work ethic and unwavering determination, he had managed to secure over 100 wins during his high school and college wrestling career. His agility, strength, and strategic thinking have earned him a reputation as a formidable opponent, showcasing his dominance on the mat.

Not limited to wrestling, Grant is also a talented football player. His speed, agility, and ability to read the game make him an invaluable asset to his team. Whether playing as a receiver, running back, or even on defense, Grant’s athleticism and passion for the sport shine through in every play.

Beyond his athletic achievements, Grant effortlessly navigates the social landscape. Popular among his teammates and peers, he exudes a magnetic charm that draws people to him. Grant’s friendly nature and ability to connect with others create a vibrant atmosphere wherever he goes. He is a reliable and supportive teammate, always encouraging and lifting the spirits of those around him.

To support himself financially, Grant juggled multiple jobs. He worked in retail, where his friendly demeanor and strong work ethic make him a valuable asset to the team. Additionally, he took on a part-time delivery job, displaying his commitment to taking responsibility and seeking opportunities for personal growth.

Grant’s profile painted the picture of a well-rounded individual, dedicated to both his athletic pursuits and his professional life. As a talented athlete, popular figure, and hardworking employee, Grant established himself as someone who embodied the qualities of an all-American jock while maintaining a strong work ethic and commitment to his responsibilities.

It was just another ordinary day for Grant, with the bustling chaos of college behind him, as he embarked on his evening pizza delivery job. Having already completed his first round of orders without a hitch, Grant set off on his second round, ready to bring delicious pizzas to hungry customers across the town.

However, fate had something unexpected in store for Grant. As he was making his way to deliver an order, his car suddenly began to sputter and jerk, before coming to a complete halt. Puzzled and frustrated, Grant pulled over to the side of the road, wondering what could have caused his car to malfunction.

Stepping out of his car, Grant inspected the vehicle, trying to identify any visible issues, but everything appeared to be in order. It was a perplexing situation that left him scratching his head, aware that he needed to find a solution soon to continue his deliveries.

Moments later, Grant realized another problem – he had no phone signal. Panic began to creep in as he attempted to make a call for help, only to be met with the silence of a failed connection. With his delivery spot still a few miles away and time ticking away, Grant weighed his options carefully.

Left with no other choice, Grant made the decision to rely on his own resourcefulness. He considered the stretch of country road he found himself on and determined that his best course of action would be to walk towards the nearest house and seek assistance. Resolutely, he set off on foot, determined to reach his destination and find a helpful stranger who might lend him their phone.

Walking along the quiet country road, Grant’s mind raced with thoughts of completing his deliveries and getting back on track. With each step, he hoped that a kind soul would be willing to offer assistance, knowing that time was of the essence. The unknown awaited him, but Grant was fueled by determination and the belief that he could overcome this unexpected hurdle and carry on with his duties.

Grant was exhausted as he approached the door of the house after what seemed like hours of walking. His muscles ached, and his mind was filled with worries about his car and the remaining deliveries. Desperation and hope mixed within him as he mustered the strength to knock on the door, desperately hoping that someone would be inside to assist him.

As Grant’s knuckles made contact with the door, he held his breath, waiting anxiously for a response. His heart skipped a beat as the door slowly creaked open, revealing a hushed interior. Grant had no inkling that the house he had stumbled upon belonged to none other than Dean Corll, a notorious serial killer who haunted the nightmares of countless people.

Inside, Dean Corll sat in his dimly lit home, intrigued by the unexpected visitor at his door. Curiosity mingled with a sinister anticipation as he contemplated who could be seeking help on this dark evening.

To Grant’s relief, Corll’s features were not those of a dangerous man. Instead, he wore a pleasant surprise on his face when he came face to face with the dark-haired, athletic young man standing at his door.

 Corll, known for his manipulative ways and ability to mask his true nature, was momentarily taken aback by Grant’s youthful vigor and seemingly genuine predicament.

With an air of concern, Grant quickly explained the unfortunate circumstances – the broken-down car and the lack of phone service in the area. Sympathy etched on his face; Corll assured him that the area was indeed a dead zone for cell reception but kindly offered the use of the phone inside his house.

Expressing his gratitude, Grant stepped into the house, oblivious to the darkness lurking behind Corll’s warm smile. Little did he know, Corll’s true intentions were shrouded in malice and sadism, hiding the depths of his deadly desires.

As Grant made his way towards the phone, Corll’s gaze fixated on the young man’s strong, athletic physique.

A sinister grin spread across Corll’s face as he savored the opportunity before him.

In an instant, before Grant had barely picked up the receiver, Corll flung a chloroform-soaked rag towards him. The pungent odor filled the air as Grant reacted, struggling against the fumes invading his senses, desperate to escape the clutches of a fate he could never have imagined. But the strength quickly left his body as he succumbed to the overwhelming power of the chloroform, his struggles fading into unconsciousness.

As Corll gazed down at Grant, a sinister glint danced in his eyes, betraying the darkness that lurked within. His cold, intense stare seemed to strip Grant of any semblance of protection, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

With a calculated movement, Corll slowly lowered himself down to his knees, his sinister intentions masked by an eerie calmness. The weight of his presence seemed to linger in the air, creating an oppressive atmosphere that Grant couldn’t escape.

Corll methodically and meticulously began removing Grant’s clothing, piece by piece. With each garment cast aside, Grant’s vulnerability became increasingly apparent. Corll’s hands moved with a disturbing precision, as if undressing his prey was a macabre ritual, he had performed countless times before. The act was devoid of any compassion or remorse, serving only to further strip away Grant’s dignity and control.

As Grant lay unconscious, Corll’s sadistic intentions took a more tangible form. With calculated precision, he placed handcuffs around Grant’s wrists, securing them firmly above his head. The metallic clinks echoed through the room, a chilling reminder of the restraint and imprisonment to come.

Not content with just immobilizing Grant’s hands, Corll proceeded to bind his ankles tightly to a sturdy wooden board. Each knot was tied meticulously, ensuring there would be no escape. It was a morbid display of power, a demonstration of how Corll could strip away both physical and mental freedom with ease.

Together, these actions painted a chilling portrait of Corll’s twisted desires – a glimpse into the disturbed mind that lay behind his calm and collected facade.

Grant’s eyes fluttered open, the disorientation and grogginess from his unconscious state slowly dissipating. As his vision cleared, he felt a wave of confusion and unease wash over him. He realized with shock that he was now stripped down to his underwear, his vulnerability exposed for all to see.

Fear and anger surged through Grant’s veins, fueling his demand for answers. His voice quivered with a mixture of apprehension and frustration as he demanded to know what was happening, his words laced with an overwhelming sense of urgency. “What’s going on? Why am I undressed? Who are you?” he forced out, determined to uncover the truth behind his state of undress and the ominous atmosphere surrounding him.

As the room remained silent, Grant’s heart rate quickened, a tangible sensation of helplessness creeping over him. Panic began to set in as he attempted to move, only to discover that his limbs were incapacitated. With growing horror, he realized that he was tightly bound, his wrists handcuffed above his head and his ankles securely tied to a formidable wooden board.

A wave of despair washed over him, mingling with the anger and fear that coursed through his veins. His once fierce demands turned into desperate pleas for release, his voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and desperation. The realization of being rendered immobile and completely at the mercy of his captor overwhelmed him, leaving him trapped in a chilling nightmare from which he couldn’t awaken.

Grant’s voice quivered as he pleaded for his freedom, his words filled with a desperate longing to escape the nightmare that surrounded him. “Please, I beg you, let me go! I won’t tell anyone what happened here, just release me!” His pleas echoed through the room, a haunting reminder of his sheer desperation to be set free.

With tears welling in his eyes, Grant turned his attention to Corll, hoping to find some compassion or empathy within the sinister figure before him. He begged and implored, his voice cracking with the weight of his fear. “Please, Mr. Corll, have mercy. I don’t want to die; I have a family, people who care about me.”

In a chilling display of power, Corll retrieved a gleaming knife from a nearby surface, waving it provocatively in front of Grant’s face. The cold, metallic blade glinted menacingly under the dim light, casting fearful shadows on Grant’s trembling form. The mere presence of the weapon intensified Grant’s terror, his heart pounding in his chest as he imagined the pain it could inflict.

Fear gripped Grant’s trembling body, causing him to pause mid-plea. The realization of the danger that loomed over him paralyzed him momentarily. His breath came in shallow gasps as his wide eyes fixed on the knife, each moment dragging out in agonizing slow motion. Time seemed to stand still as his thoughts raced, his instincts urging him to fight or flee, yet his restraints kept him captive.

As Corll’s sadistic intentions manifested, Grant’s cries for mercy only intensified. He sobbed uncontrollably, a mixture of fear, pain, and desperation accompanying each agonizing plea. His body writhed in torment as he endured the unimaginable, his mind clinging to the faint hope of freedom that seemed to slip further away with each passing moment. Grant’s cries filled the air, a desolate symphony of suffering and despair, as he clung onto the sliver of hope that someday he might be released from this unimaginable torture.

Grant’s pleas for freedom grew louder, his sobs filling the room as he desperately begged for his life. His voice was laced with fear, a raw desperation that shook him to his core.

Corll, a sinister figure, slowly pulled out his gun and aimed it directly at Grant’s head. The cold metal of the weapon glistened under the dim light, sending a shiver down Grant’s spine. His heart raced, and his breath became shallow as he realized the severity of the situation.

Trembling uncontrollably, Grant pleaded with Corll, his voice trembling as he repeated, “No, don’t, please no.” Every word was punctuated by a strain of terror, his voice cracking with each syllable. The barrel of the gun was now mere millimeters away from his head, his life hanging on the edge of a precipice.

A chilling click echoed through the room as Corll pulled the trigger, a malicious grin spreading across his face. He reveled in the torment he inflicted, savoring Grant’s fear. Mocking laughter filled the air, intertwining with Grant’s pleas, a twisted symphony of sadism.

The gun clicked once more, sending Grant’s heart racing even faster. The sound grated on his ears, fueling his terror, as Corll’s laughter continued without remorse. Grant’s mind raced, wavering between hope and despair, as he tried to piece together the intentions behind these sadistic games.

For a fleeting moment, Grant allowed himself a breath, hopeful that this torment was merely a sick psychological mind game. Maybe Corll was relishing in his power to instill fear, Grant thought, desperately clinging to any semblance of hope. He dared to believe that the worst had yet to come.

But then, in an unimaginable instant, Corll pulled the trigger once more. The deafening blast filled the room, echoing off the walls as the bullet tore through Grant’s skull. Time seemed to slow as he collapsed in a gruesome ballet of agony.

Grant’s eyes, wide open with sheer terror, remained fixed in a haunting gaze. Blood and brain matter sprayed onto the walls behind him, creating a macabre mural of his violent demise. It was a chilling testament to the horror humankind was capable of, a sight that would forever haunt the witnesses who stumbled upon it.

Corll couldn’t help but smile evilly as he looked down at Grant’s lifeless body. The once vibrant young man now lay motionless before him, a hole neatly drilled in his forehead. The sight brought a twisted satisfaction to Corll, his eyes glinting with a sinister pleasure.

Realizing he needed to dispose of the evidence, Corll knew he had to take out the trash. He approached Grant’s lifeless body, the ropes that bound him now loose. With methodical precision, Corll carefully wrapped Grant’s body in a cold, unforgiving plastic sheet, ensuring every inch was covered, concealing the remains of his gruesome deed.

Dragging Grant’s body to his car, Corll felt a combination of adrenaline and anticipation coursing through his veins. The weight of the body serving as a reminder of the power he held over life and death. The plastic sheet rustled with every step, a chilling symphony of secrets that only Corll held.

Arriving at the secluded lake, Corll found solace in the darkness that surrounded him. The moon cast an eerie glow, illuminating the small clearing where he planned to bury Grant. Shivering with both excitement and fear, Corll laid Grant’s body gently on the ground, remnants of dirt and leaves clinging to the plastic sheet.

The lake’s stillness mirrored Corll’s cold determination as he started digging a shallow grave. Once the hole was ready, Corll carefully placed Grant’s wrapped body on the ground,  reveling in the fact the jock’s lifeless form lay clad only in his underwear. The vulnerability of the situation only heightened the macabre atmosphere.

With a mix of defiance and satisfaction, Corll lowered Grant’s body into the makeshift grave, his heart pounding in his chest. Each shovelful of dirt hid the evidence, burying Grant alongside his secrets, ensuring that the lake would forever hold the chilling secret of what had transpired.

As Corll stood there, in the quiet darkness, a cruel smile played on his lips. The malevolent satisfaction of knowing he had taken control, extinguished a life, and eradicated any trace of his crime fueled an ever-growing darkness within him.

In the silence of the desolate lake, the body of popular jock Grant lay undisturbed in his makeshift grave. Wrapped tightly in a suffocating plastic sheet, he was destined to decay in isolation, forever hidden from the world above. Unbeknownst to his grieving family, Grant’s final resting place became a morbid secret known only to the one who had orchestrated his demise.

As days turned into weeks, the plastic sheet acted as a macabre cocoon, sealing Grant’s body within its confines. The once-athletic physique, admired by peers and desired by many, gradually succumbed to the inevitable process of decomposition. The vibrant, pulsating life that Grant once embodied now faded into an eerie stillness, as his flesh slowly broke down and merged with the earth.

Underneath the weight of the soil and the passing of time, the plastic sheet offered a grim preservation of Grant’s remains. The trapped air created a repulsive breeding ground for bacteria and fungi, hastening the decomposition process. The stench of death permeated the surrounding soil, carried away by the sparse winds at the lake, as nature worked tirelessly to claim its inevitability.

Grant’s final resting place remained undisturbed by his family’s sorrowful search for closure. Their desperate pleas and inquiries fell on deaf ears, as the truth of his whereabouts remained shrouded in darkness. The enormity of their loss gnawed in their hearts, an anguish that would haunt them for years to come, unaware of the tragedy that lay hidden just out of reach.

The passage of time bore witness to the gradual transformation of Grant’s body. His once-familiar features blurred and faded, eroded by the relentless march of decay. Skeletal remnants slowly emerged, as nature’s scavengers whispered in their eternal search for sustenance. Grant’s essence, his vibrant spirit that had once graced the halls of high school, was now reduced to a mere memory shrouded in decomposition.

As the seasons changed, the grave that held Grant’s decaying body remained undisturbed, untouched by the mourning hands of his family. With each passing year, the plastic sheet became increasingly brittle, its once-impermeable barrier wearing away under the weight of time. The elements embraced Grant’s remains, merging them with the very earth that had sheltered his existence.

Grant’s disappearance became a painful void in the lives of those who loved him. His absence, forever unexplained to his family, left a lingering sorrow that time could never heal. And so, beneath the silent veil of the plastic sheet, Grant’s existence slowly faded away, forever entwined with the melancholic secrets of the unmarked grave.

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