Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1:
When he was a child it was far easier to deal with his mothers verbal and psychological abuse. As a child he was naive enough to believe that one day he would be successful in gaining her love and affection. And so as a small boy he would be patient, stand before her with his head hung low as she screamed at him, pointed out his many flaws and the constant disappointments he brought into her life, all the while a tiny drop of hope staying alight inside of him that one day she would see the good in him and love him as only a mother could.
How wrong he had been.
Now at the age of forty-seven it was becoming increasingly difficult to be in the presence of his mother, the great Mrs Chilton. Her deeply accented southern voice was like nails on a chalkboard to him as she sat on the daybed lounge in the conservatory of his home, a manhattan cocktail in her hand, her sixth but who was he to keep count and of course dressed in a pristine chanel suit accessorised with antique pearls as she proceeded to inform her son of what a continuous disappointment he was in her life.
Before her visit to his home would have been somewhat manageable, however upon informing her that he had ‘lost’ his position at the hospital and was currently seeking employment elsewhere, well by her hysterical ranting anyone would have thought he had just gone on a murderous rampage killing hundreds of innocent people. At least with that she would have been perhaps mildly proud to have her sons face on the front page of multiple newspapers if only knowing it would guarantee her an interview with Barbra Walters at some point to get the viewpoint of the poor mothers side of this tragic story.
Instead he was given a long lecture on why he could never do anything right in his life. After all the hard work she had done to ensure he had achieved a good education, sent to the best schools only for him to fuck it all up and throw it away. Not exactly the language she used, after all his mother was a lady, a proper southern belle and no such words would ever escape her tongue, except on those rare occasions he had overheard her speaking to the servants during hosted parties at her home, then his mother could make even the hardest sailor blush.
He takes another long sip of his whiskey, closing his eyes and savouring the way it burned the lining of his throat, bringing a warmth to his body that felt comforting against all this coldness being rained down upon him.
“Frederick? Frederick?! Are you listening to me?”
He barely registers her voice at first but then it quickly begins to echo constantly inside his head like a broken record. Chilton opens his eyes and glances over to her with a false and well practiced smile upon his face.
“Yes mother.” He replies, the sarcasm that he is so good at dishing out to others, drips from his tongue like venom.
“Don’t you dare you use that tone with me.” She scolds him with a stern look upon her face which is a miracle in itself due to the amount of botox injections the woman has received in the last ten years of her life.
“I assure you mother, there was no tone … another cocktail?” He asks, already standing from his seat as he walks over to the small table at the other end of the room and mixes her another drink just the way she likes it.
As he added the perfect blend of whiskey, vermouth and bitters, he stares at the amber liquid and begins to contemplate how easy it would be to poison her. He was a certified and licensed doctor after all, it wouldn’t take much to get his hands on the right drug, to know the exact dose that would be fatal but not enough to cause suspicion. But where would the fun be in that? No, he would rather watch the life drain from her eyes as his hands tightened around her slender neck until he stole every last breath from her body. The very thought of that pleasant image placed a smirk upon his lips as he let his imagination run wild until that shrill voice called him back to reality.
Picking up her drink, careful not to spill a single drop or cause a mess he walked back over to her and handed her the drink and then proceeded to sit back down across from her and listen to the continued failure that was his life.