Chapter 5 Chapter 3 Dexter's Papa

And so, like so many nights before, I hummed a little tune and got ready to have a good time while the moonlight plucked the manic chords of its merry, bloodthirsty children.All done, now it's Dexter's playtime.It usually only takes me a few moments to pack my few simple toys and head out to meet my rich, trouble-making friend.However, for a person who is being shadowed by marriage, nothing is simple anymore.I began to wonder if there would never be a simple thing again. Of course, I'm building a perfect, solid, and gleaming spotless steel plate to fit into that ghastly gothic façade of Dexter's Castle.So I very cooperatively let the old Dexter go, so I'm in the process of, as Rita puts it, "merging our lives."It would also mean moving out of my little comfort zone on the outskirts of Coconut Grove and into Rita's three-bedroom home in the South End.It is said to be a wise choice.Of course, besides being sensible, this is quite an inconvenience to a devil.Under the new system, I will have no way to keep any privacy.Of course I need to have privacy.Every hard-working and responsible monster has his privacy, and there are some things I don't want anyone but me to see in broad daylight.

For example, the study of future game partners, and the little wooden box that I felt very dear to me, which contained 41 glass slides, each with a drop of dried blood in the middle, and each drop of blood represented a person. Beasts that fall into my hands, because I don't leave a pile of rotting corpses behind me, these slides represent all the secrets of my life.I'm not a scruffy, unkempt killer, but an extremely neat killer.I'm always so careful with my trash that even the most ruthless and intractable opponents can't use my little slides as proof that I'm a badass, even if I am.

But interpreting the slides raises a cascade of questions that ultimately feels awkward, even to a virtuous wife.It would be even more terrifying to meet those Avengers who are desperate to kill me.There was one such recently, a Miami police officer named Doakes.Although technically he's still alive, I'm already thinking of him in the past tense, since he lost his feet and hands, and his tongue, in a recent ill-fated adventure.He has been unable to make my evil come back, but I deeply know that the next person like him will appear sooner or later. So privacy is a very important thing, I don't show off my private life to anyone, so far, no one has seen my locket.But I never had a fiancée to clean my house, let alone two curious kids who took an interest in everything I owned.They sniff around, trying to learn a little more about being more like their sinister dad, Dexter.

Rita seemed to understand my need for a little privacy.Otherwise she wouldn't have given up her sewing room and turned it into "Dexter's study," as she called it.In the end this room will be used for my computer, a few books, some CDs, and my little rosewood box that holds the slides.But how could I put it there?It's easy to explain to Cody and Astor, but how to explain it to Rita?Or should I hide it?Make a secret passage behind the bookshelf, and the winding path leads to my dark activities?Or put it under a jar of shaving cream?Anyway, here's the problem. So far I can't think of a reason why I must keep my apartment.I still have a few tools in there for my research.Butcher knives and sealing tape, these are easily explained by my passion for fishing and repairing air conditioners.There will be a way.Now I feel cold fingers poking my spine, making me desperately need a moment with a spoiled young man.

I go into the study to find a dark blue nylon gym bag that I keep for formal occasions to hold my knives and duct tape.I took it out of the cabinet and put my toys back in: a new roll of sealing tape, a meat cleaver, gloves, a silk mask, a roll of emergency nylon cord.A strong sense of anticipation gathers on my tongue.Everything is ready.I felt the metallic luster of my veins shining with excitement, the wild music began to roar in my ears, the pulse rhythm of the night walker was driving me, let me rush out and jump in.I turned around- Two children with serious expressions were looking up at me eagerly.

"He wants to," said Astor.Cody nodded and looked at me, his big eyes unblinking. People who know me say I have a sharp tongue and quick reflexes, but I replay what Astor just said in my head, try to understand it in other words, and then all I can do is make some sounds that seem to be human language: "He... this... that... um... ah?" "He wants to go with you," Astor said patiently, as if to a mentally retarded servant, "Cody wants to go with you tonight." If you think about it carefully, it is not difficult to find that this problem will come sooner or later.And to be fair (and I think that's very important), I'm even looking forward to this moment.But that's the future, not now, not tonight when my sword is about to be unsheathed, not when every hair on my neck is raised, screaming desperately to dive into the moonlit night, to express my anger in cold stainless steel tonight.

It's a scenario that requires deliberation, but every cell in my body is begging me to jump out the window and into the night.But there they were, and I couldn't help but take a deep breath and think about the two of them. Dexter's sharp, shiny Avenger spirit was forged from childhood experiences.The trauma was so brutal, I had to shut it out completely and completely.It turned me into who I am today, and if I had to go through it all over again, I know I'd cry and be unhappy.The two children in front of them, Cody and Astor, were also horrified by similar experiences.They were savagely treated by their rough drug addict biological father until they said goodbye to the sunshine and lollipops of their children forever.As my wise adoptive father learned while raising me, there is no way to change that.Once a snake is hatched out of its shell, it cannot be put back into the egg.

But it can be trained, and I was trained by Harry: he taught me to only hunt other dark predators, devils and murderers who wear human skins and roam the city.I had an unquenchable, unchangeable urge to kill, but Harry taught me to only seek out and dispose of those who, according to his exacting police standards, absolutely deserved to be killed. When I found out that Cody was just like me, I swore to teach the kid what I had learned and raise him with black justice the way Harry was.But it will be a gigantic project of immense complexity, involving a lot of explanation and teaching.It took almost ten years for Harry to cram everything into my head before he allowed me to work on more complex projects than disposing of stray animals.I haven't started training Cody yet - that makes me feel like Master Jedi, but certainly not at the moment.Even knowing that Cody will definitely become another me sooner or later, I really want to help him, but not tonight.Because tonight, the moon is ardently calling me outside the window.

"I don't...ah—" I started, planning to say no to anything.But the calm way they looked up at me was so cute, I couldn't go on. "No," I said finally, "he's too young." They exchanged a quick glance, just a brief but informative one. "I told you he'd say that," Astor said. "You're right," I said. "But Dexter," she said, "you said you were going to teach us." "I will," I said, feeling cool fingers slowly rising up my spine and poking harder, urging me to go, "but not now." "When?" Astor asked.

I looked at the two of them with a strange mixture of an impatience to rush out the door to do my cutting work, and to wrap them both in a big soft blanket and kill any daredevil. something close to them.I let this complicated feeling gnaw in my heart, and I really wanted to pat the two of them on their stupid heads. This is fatherly love? The skin of my whole body is scorched by the cold flames, I need to leave immediately, act immediately, and respond to the divine call.But I just took a deep breath and put on a calm expression. "It's not the weekend," I said, "it's your bedtime."

They looked at me like I was a traitor, and I think I probably was, because I changed the game and became Daddy Dexter, and they thought I was talking to the Dexter monster.But you can't take little ones to a midnight heart-opening operation and expect them to go to school the next day normally.For me, going to work the next morning is hard enough after a night of exploring, and that's after I've had enough Cuban coffee.They are just too young. "Now you're talking grown-ups to us," Astor said, with the sneer of a fearsome ten-year-old. "But I'm a grown-up," I said, "and I want to be a good grown-up for you." I gritted my teeth against the rising desire as I said it, but it was true.But it didn't help, and it didn't change the same undisguised contempt on their little faces. "We thought you were different from them," she said. "I just can't imagine how I could be different and still look like a normal person," I said. "It's not fair," Cody said.I looked at him intently, and saw a little black beast raise its head and growl at me. "Yeah, it's not fair," I said. "There's no such thing as fairness in life. Fairness is a dirty word. Please don't use it on me." Cody stared at me for a while, I've never seen him that disappointed, and I couldn't decide whether to punch him or give him a biscuit. "Not fair," he repeated. "Listen," I said, "I know this one. That's the first lesson. Normal kids go to bed when they have lessons the next day." "It's not normal." He emphasized, poking out his lower lip, he could tie a donkey. "That's right," I told him, "so you have to look normal and act normal so that everyone thinks you are normal. Also, you have to listen to me, or I won't teach you." I was persuaded, but my expression softened. "Cody," I said emphatically, "you've got to trust me, and you've got to do it my way." "Must," he said. "Yes," I said, "must." He stared at me for a long time, then turned to look at his sister, who was also looking at him.It was brilliant nonverbal communication; I daresay they were having an intricate conversation, but neither of them said a word until Astor shrugged and turned to me. "You have to promise," she told me. "Okay," I said, "guaranteed what?" "Promise you'll start teaching us," she declared.Cody nodded: "Right now." I took a deep breath.Before that, I never had the chance to go to what I thought was an unreal paradise.But after this one, agreeing to train these two untamed little devils into neat and well-bred little devils makes me feel close to heaven.Ah, I sure hope my assumptions about heaven still stand. "I promise." I said.They looked at each other, then at me, and left. I stood there alone, with a bag full of toys, about to go to an imminent date, but the sense of urgency in my heart was somewhat weakened. Is this what family life is?If so, how did others get away with it?Why do people want more than one child?Why would you want children at all?Like me, there is an important mission waiting for me to complete, but suddenly I am so disturbed that I can hardly remember what I was going to do.Even if it is as impatient as the Nightbringer, it has become rare and quiet at this moment, as if it is also confused by all this.It took a while for me to pull myself together and go from dazed Daddy Dexter back to calm Avenger.I found it hard to regain that calm alertness, hard.In fact, I can't even remember where I put my car keys. Finally I found the key, staggered out of the study, said some heartfelt nonsense to Rita, and walked out the door into the night at last.