Authors: Jason Wood
I heard my phone and the chirp meant that I had received some kind of text message. I knew before I even opened the phone that it was from my playmate. “Michaela… Michaela and Rebecca up a tree… Michaela… Michaela won’t you set her free? I was the first to admit that I would probably play this kind of game myself. I wanted to every time that I killed someone, but I was given a mandate and I had to follow it to the letter. It was a business, but it was also my pleasure to feed on the feeling.
I looked at my phone and once again it vanished like the photo. It was almost like it was a figment of my imagination, but I knew better than to believe in such nonsense.
That feeling deep down was getting stronger each time that I looked at the body of Wilson. I had my hand in front of me looking at the blood and then I put his phone back in his hand after erasing the message that he had received. It would be up to the police to determine what might be the cause of death. I saw no semblance of a murder weapon and I had this feeling that my new playmate may have decided to take it with him or her. There was no way to know if this was a man or woman or even if it was an adult. I think that I had some knowledge on serial killers and this was definitely someone that was of adult age.
“I think I know the reason why you can’t pull yourself away from this.” I stood there very still not quite believing that he could even have a clue of what I was doing. “It’s like a car accident on the side of the road. You get curious enough that you can’t take your eyes off of the disturbing site in front of you. Let me help you.” The only person that needed help was Neil and definitely Rebecca.
We were on our way out into the living room when the distant sirens informed us that we weren’t going to be alone for long. He had his head back and was looking at the ceiling, when I got another text message, but this time it was an attachment. I wasn’t sure if I should dare open it right now beside him, but I couldn’t help myself. I should have realized that Rebecca and Wilson was not the killer’s only target. The three photos that showed three other women dead and attacked in the same way that Wilson had been found in his kitchen was now plastered on my screen. I knew all three of them, but two of them were from a past that I had thought I’d walked away from.
Diana and Nicole were both serial killers with their own specific signature. They were dead and it wasn’t like it was much of a big loss. I’m sure that others would think the same about me, but I was still ready to take the fight to the enemy.
Chapter three
“We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions. You were right to be worried and I think that everybody should have friends like you.” The detective in charge of the case probably wouldn’t have said anything of this sort, if he had known anything about me. I was showing compassion, although deep down I was more interested in seeing Wilson the way that he was again. “We’re going with the impression that maybe his wife did this to him. We know that you said that she would never do such a thing, but everybody is capable of some very destructive things if pushed to the limit. I know that I would kill for my child.” He probably didn’t mean that. Saying it and doing it was something else entirely.
“I can’t stop my hands from shaking.” I took Neil’s hands in mine and I stopped him from showing any kind of weakness. “I’ve never seen anything like that in my life before. I don’t think that I ever want to see anything like that again. I don’t know why anybody would feel a need to kill somebody like that. It’s different when you are in a battle for your own life, but this is something that has to be punished.” I understood how he felt, but I really didn’t know if I could share the same sentiment.
“Our CSI team will comb the area for any kind of weapon, but I don’t think that we’re going to find anything. Except for the blood, everything looked like it has been cleaned to a spit polish. You can even smell the bleach in the house. There are no fingerprints on the door, except for Wilson’s. This makes me think that it might be more of a hit and that is another thing that we need to question Rebecca about. Her not being here is suspicious, but we won’t jump to conclusions, until we have the evidence.” He was a seasoned veteran, but he did not lose that need to serve the public. He did not have that jaded expression on his face like he was just going through the motions. He had a very distinctive pale mark on his finger, which most likely came from losing the one that he loved.
“I don’t know who did this, but I hope that you find them.” The underlying meaning of my words meant that I was going to find them and make them pay for what they had done to my friend. She was the first one that wasn’t in my immediate circle of friends that I found myself gravitating towards in my new life. She had this innocent quality and knowing that she was alive was giving me hope that I could get to her in time. I would never be the female equivalent of a knight in shining armor and I was certainly not one that you should take home to mother.
Shaky and a little unresponsive, I let Neil lean on me and not the other way around. He was very affected by what he had seen and no doubt Emily was going to have something else to worry about other than his OCD.
“I would never condone a vigilante act, but I wouldn’t blame you for taking matters into your own hands. I’m not condoning that type of thing, but I understand how this can make you feel like doing something. I implore you to let the professionals handle this and not go do something that is going to get you or your boyfriend hurt. I’ve seen that look in the eyes of other victims and I know the signs.” I didn’t like causing trouble and staying under the radar was something that I had got used to doing. I wasn’t perfect by any means, but I was doing my best to make a clean slate.
“I have this anger inside that I’m not sure what to do with it. I should be in shock, but mostly I just want to lash out at someone. I promise that I will let you handle this.” It wasn’t a lie and while they were handling it, I was going to do my own thing. “This is not my first time dealing with this kind of loss, but it never gets easier. Death is something that you expect, but not in this way. Disease and old age is commonplace, but this is senseless and has no rhyme or reason.” I was just spouting off what I thought that he wanted me to hear and it appeared that I was saying all the right things.
“Miss Rhodes, we see this all the time and what you need most of all is time to accept it. I’m going to give you a number that you should call. Both of you need to talk to somebody and this group gets together once a week to air dirty laundry. I’ve been told that it helps to get these things out in the open and shine a light of those things that nobody wants to talk about. This place lets you vent and have some way of getting things off your chest. To be honest, I went there after a shooting never thinking for a second that it was going to work for me. I was quite amazed that talking about it with strangers helped me to lessen the degree of pain that I was in.” I was glad that it would work for him and I was sure that Neil would get something from it.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to take Neil home. You have our statement. I don’t believe that it needs to be said, but you’ll find some of our prints in the house. We frequent this place once or twice a month for game night. I’m going to miss Wilson and I do hope that Rebecca shows up. I’ll be sure to let you know if I hear from her.” Once again, I wasn’t lying and it wasn’t like I had heard from her. I had seen her in a very emotional photograph, but I had every reason to believe that I was going to see her face to face very soon.
The detective was older, but well put together for a man of his obvious years. He looked to be 40, but I could see in his eyes that he was older than that. It was a testament to whatever regiment that he was putting himself through every morning. I had to give him credit for being able to get up in the morning when nobody was there to greet him when he came home. I was able to read him like a cheap trashy novel. His marriage had turned to shambles because of his long nights and possibly an injury that made his wife think that it would be better to walk away than to wait for that phone call or visit in the middle of the night to say that he was dead.
“I have everything that I need. We have your phone number and we’ll be sure to follow up if we have any more questions. I know that you might think that you could have done something, but these things happen for no good reason. Don’t beat yourself up. These kinds of thoughts can be the death of you and I think that you’ll find that the worst is yet to come. This is something that I know from personal experience. When you think that you are OK, the weight of what you have seen will come crashing down on you at the most inopportune time.” He was being very kind, but the only thing that I could think about was the look on Wilson’s face of shock and confusion.
They had no enemies to speak of and they were the kindest people that you could ever know. The only reason why this had befallen them was because they knew me. I should’ve felt guilty, but mostly I just felt this insane rage to wrap my hands around somebody’s throat and make them pay for this.
“If you don’t mind me saying, you have a compassionate side that is a little less critical than others. You do know that getting personally involved in a case is only going to make your job a lot harder. You’re old enough to know better than that.” I didn’t mean to call him on the carpet, but this was the kind of thing that could lead to an early grave or possible mental breakdown.
“Don’t worry about it. I am trained to leave this at work and that’s exactly what I do every time that I come home at the end of the day.” He was telling me what I wanted to hear, but I knew the truth like he was saying it outright for everybody to hear. “You are free to leave anytime that you want. My people need some room to breathe.” He was telling us that we had to leave. He wasn’t just suggesting that we do so. I didn’t want to leave, but staying would’ve been suspicious.
“We’re both going to need some rest. I’m just not sure how we are supposed to close our eyes after seeing something like that.” I was going to sleep like a baby, but Neil would most likely toss and turn all night long. I was going to find out who was doing this. This was not the old west and this was no way to call me out to an old fashioned duel.
I heard my phone and once again that photo of Rebecca was a painful reminder that she was suffering for no good reason other than the fact that she knew me. I actually smiled behind Neil’s back. I think that their main purpose was to draw out the killer in me to play a game of hide and seek and that was exactly what they were going to get.
THE END
Chapter 1
10/3/2005
Dear diary,
I am Samantha Hurlock from a small town if you must know my origin in a conventional manner. I cannot say any more about it and mind you even this I have written very reluctantly. Why I am so reluctant to introduce myself is a simple matter of choice. My choice derives its logic from my unconventional opinions about the origin. I don’t want to be defined by my hometown, my lineage, my language or even by my name. I had rather be known for what I do and what I think, that is what I am.
I have written a poem about this. Do you want me to write it for you?
I am not what I used to be,
I am not what I will be,
This moment what I am,
Is really who I am.
The moment lasts only,
Depart till we.
Yet you can capture,
If you wish,
A glimpse or a glim of me.
For even though the time has passed,
That bit will still be me
I am here, right here at this moment, the past and the future is not my concern. I have no roots because I am not a tree, but I have legs, a brain and most importantly a heart! They take me where they like and I happily oblige. The uncertainty is what makes my life worth living! Uh-oh! Write about the devil and there he comes, my uncertain life doesn’t allow me to write any fu—
The chief of the caravan shouted again for me to listen loud and clear that I was not welcome on board anymore. I was in the middle of the desert at the back of a slightly small camel, the journal in my hand half opened and my index finger resting between the pages that I had been staining with the ink of my feelings. I looked around with difficulty as my eyes failed to cope up with the strain despite the shades and the cap that I was wearing. It was all gold, the desert, and the sun. I had no choice but to get down the camel that I had begun to get attached to even though we were together for only two days. I was half dead when I joined these people or when they rescued me would be a more accurate expression. I patted Mohini, the she-camel on the back and she gave me a slight nod. Somehow she knew that I was to depart now and surprisingly she seemed to be very understanding about it. Maybe she was accustomed to being forsaken in the middle of the deserts then I realized that it was I who was being forsaken and not her.
I was not being ungrateful to these people. They had helped me a lot, but now they were to head in a different direction and my purpose was to cross this desert that seemed to have no end at all. I saw the chief coming towards me. I put the journal inside my backpack, checked my goat-skin water bottle which as I expected was empty. I looked at him innocently and he ordered someone from his clan to fill it with water for me. He did not know English and I did not know Arabic, but we understood each other on the grounds of common sense. I thanked him profusely and he accepted it. Then he looked perplexed, he wanted to guide me through it without wasting much time which was kind of impossible with the great language barrier. Suddenly, he looked around and said something in Arabic and the boy who had been handling Mohini for me came. He was wearing a large checkered scarf on his head like the rest of them but his face was not visible and I suddenly realized that I had not seen his face at all. I had not even noticed this because he seemed so insignificant but as it came out he knew both the great languages and could act as an interpreter for us. With his help, I understood how to cross that terrible desert. As I was about to turn around, he said, have a safe journey, Signorina and as I moved away I caught a glimpse of his intriguing blue eyes!