Something had changed in the way the day was – the streets didn’t buzz with the delighted shrieks of kids playing or the intermittent crack of dogs barking – not even the birds were convincing. Leanne noticed. She could feel creepiness in the air. It vibrated with a quiet uneasiness. She didn’t like it but she didn’t think it would last. The things that had been happening around here would not touch her or her life. She knew that with a certainty that didn’t come easy with anything else. This didn’t mean that she could just ignore the general safety rules. Leanne wasn’t of the belief that just because she felt safe or protected by God or whatever, that she could go through life unscathed. But she did believe that if she kept her nose clean and actively practised safety precautions in every walk of life, then why would God (or that “whatever”), not want her to survive? In her head it didn’t make sense any other way. So she checked in the back seat of her car to make sure no one was hiding there, waiting for her. She envisioned a huddled man-figure in the back seat just waiting for her to be off guard so he could slit her throat, strangle her with something or even his bare hands… It did her no good harping on about it. Leanne shook her head as if there was even a possibility of dislodging the nasty thought . But there was something not quite right and it was unnerving – an awkward, unnatural state of being for her – for most people, one would imagine. Once she was safe in the car she locked all of the doors, turned on some music and headed homeward. For some reason she couldn’t shake the creepy feeling, so it followed her home – colouring her world a darker shade of uncertain.
The man was waiting for her. His heavy feet slid so very quietly along the porch. Hiding so very still in the shadows he watched her every move. He sensed a slight crunching under his left foot and held his weight off it. He needed panther stealth and silence to watch his prey. The jingling of Leanne’s’ keys told him where she was. How very close she was – he could almost smell her. He could smell her! And in a most delicious way. It made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he felt that delightful strangeness as he listened to her and waited anxiously for his first “real” glimpse of her. He used the word “real” like that because this was the first time he was allowed to look at her with kill-potential in mind. There was no one to see him, no one to watch how his face changed, no one else to be aware of.
“Just me and you…me and you…me an’ you…” he breathed the words out, the whisper falling almost silently out of him, but the power in that whisper was monstrous.
Her high heels clicked in even time on the wooden porch and halted as she fumbled with the doorknob, jingling keys and handbag. She was humming to herself – a few known words spilling out here and there. It was some funky, groove thing and she strutted her stuff in through the front door and into the kitchen. Dropping her keys and handbag on the kitchen bench she headed for the phone to check her messages. She suddenly came to a halt mid-stride and he held his breath. Could she feel him there? Sense his screamingly insane energy? Was there a coldness coming over her? God he wanted so badly to be in her skin and to feel what she was feeling. She only stopped for a split second and hesitated, but carried on towards the phone.
The man watched her. Very still, very dangerously, he watched her. His mouth was slightly open, fingers spread stiffly apart. His breath came in even, slow pulses. The dark hair was not slicked back any more – he was no longer the wild biker boy. He hunted – he was the hunter. He made it right for him. He felt good about himself and he felt really good about her. Maybe he should keep her for a little while too? His eyes flickered with flashes of insane reality. He wanted to scream and laugh and smash through that porch door and rip her fucking throat out. He wanted to drink her blood and feel the sticky slickness of it on his skin – in his mouth. He wanted her blood-glow on him. He wanted her all over him. His hand touched his cock and it was hard and aching in his hand. All of him ached for her but now wasn’t the time. He must watch and wait and watch some more. It would become unbearable but this was his great sacrifice for an ultimate ending. He would rise like a phoenix from the agony of his waiting torture and take it all out on her.
She needs me, he thought quietly.
“She wants me.” He whispered to himself, over and over. With an overwhelming eagerness his eyes burnt long and hard through the dimness of the coming night. Leanne was aware of someone’s’ presence. The energy he exuded and the intent with which he sent it out there was bound to be picked up by somebody. Like a guitar string, her brain strummed her senses. An overwhelmingly uncomfortable sensation flitted over her, her mouth felt like she was biting on tin foil, sending grimaces and shudders through her body. She felt it – someone was watching her and it stirred a bird of fear that flew to her heart and clutched it close in its claws – so close she could hardly breathe. Leanne grabbed the cordless phone and started checking the locks on the windows and doors. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to make a call, check the house or run out screaming. She had to slow her breathing down. She was panicking and nothing, absolutely nothing had happened – nothing. It was just a creepy feeling, well more than that. Dammit, what was going on! She tried to force herself to be calm.
Outside, in the quietly falling darkness he rubbed his hands over his face – almost lovingly, gently – a soft caressing of his features. He never touched a woman like that. He didn’t want them to enjoy it. They were there to be terrified. He wanted to laugh in their stupid faces while they were pleading with him. He sucked the terror and pain from them. It energised him, it empowered him – making him great – letting him be God for a while.
He got to see into their pathetic souls, just for a second, before they passed out or died. He could look right at them and they knew that this was it. They knew they’d never hug anyone again let alone see them. He was it. What he created for them was all that it was right then and there. Reality check. Fuck man, he was changing lives! He had a rippling effect over so many lives. He thought of all of that too. People may think he didn’t ponder upon such things, which was why he found it easy to kill. But he did. He thought about the mummies and daddies, brothers, sisters, friends. He thought of what he was taking from everybody and from the victim. It filled him with positivity. He sucked up their grief, helplessness and anguish. He gorged on their tears and pain. He truly believed he was giving them a gift when he slashed his way through a family’s lives. He gave them the gift of pain. Something they may never have had the opportunity to experience. All his victims became Marilyn Monroe’s, Jimmy Dean’s – Legends. He created their future, was the catalyst of their history, the cataclysmic force – the big bang that changes the world the way that family knows it. Finally Mummy and Daddy realise how precious their little girl or boy is. How delicate life is. How painful caring is. What pain really is. What it means to have regrets and to be too late, just too late.
If he looked at it totally selfishly and from a completely personal point of view it was the sense of control or rather the knowledge, absolute knowledge, that he had complete control. And of so many things for so many people! So many extremes! What had the rest of the family been doing at the time he was hurting their little baby girl? Were they even thinking about her at exactly the same time as the cut-throat was slicing into her pale pink throat skin? Did someone, anyone who knew the victim, think of her in that split second of time? Did goose bumps appear or something sends a shiver down their spine and they didn’t know why? If he thought about it honestly, he didn’t really give a shit what anyone thought. He only cared about how he felt and everyone else doing badly around him, made him feel just fine. It felt good for whatever reasons. The kill was the moment where time exploded and he travelled into total bliss. It took him and burnt him and twisted him and tortured him so bad it truly felt good – the baddest being the best.
I didn’t get the phone that was ringing and ringing while I fumbled frantically to unlock the front door. Why do doors have to be like that? Mind you, the armload I was carrying didn’t enhance my dexterity with a cluster-fuck of keys. I could vaguely hear a muffled message being left and I hate that – we need answer machines that you can talk to if you want to and be able to be activated by your voice from outside. I gave in and put one of the bags down – I hate that too. I lived in an old home and the door was heavy and stiff. Finally I dragged it open with a resistant screech and fell indoors over the bag I had reluctantly let go of. Dropping the rest of the shopping and the keys on the floor I ran for the phone. And as Sod’s Law would have it I had no luck reaching the handset in time. I heard a few garbled words from Leanne and then she hung up. Pressing buttons I run the messages back and head back to the front door to gather the dumped goods that needed to go in the kitchen. I listened. One from Mum, a repair guy … and Leanne.
“Oh hi Sinclair – it’s me – look it’s probably nothing but I had this weird feeling I’m being watched. It’s given me the creeps so when you get home please give me a call. Thanks Hon, bye!” Bleep.
So I pick up the phone, ring Lee and she answers, thank God.
“What’s the matter Lee, why so jumpy?”
“I dunno. Those missing girls and the murders and everything – I hate it.” She says, in her I’m-not-happy voice.
“I know…what kind of psycho nut-job does that kind of shit to a person…or anything for that matter?” I reply, “It’s just weird.”
“You’re not helping Sin. I’m freaked out and I don’t like it.” I could hear that edge of hysteria coming in.
“I’m sorry Lee… I wasn’t thinking. At least you’ve got a secure home though, with floodlights, bolts, padlocks and alarms – and everything. Hell girl, no one’ll be able to get you! You could be Fort Knockers!” I laughed at my own joke and she chuckled, but just as soon got back to her point. “I know, I know but I just don’t feel right. Perhaps you could maybe stay the night – I dunno … something’s not right and I just don’t feel like being scared alone. Would you mind?” She asks more like pleading really and I know without a doubt I’m sleeping at Lee’s tonight.
“Not at all Lee. Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be there with bells on. Hey, can we do that face-mask, nail-painting thing?” I ask, actually looking forward to it in that odd pyjama-party-girl-thing kind of way.
“Excellent idea! Please hurry though, Sin. I’m not into feeling like this and I really, really don’t want to be alone.”
“I know and I promise I’ll be there real soon, O.K.?
After the “goodbyes” and “be quick’s” I started throwing some stuff into a bag for the overnighter. Thank God I had not had another weird wardrobe experience and all my clothes seemed perfectly fine. I snatched my toothbrush and some other toiletries, cuddled my two beautiful pussies and headed out, feeling slightly guilty for leaving Gorgeous George and Bella on their own. I tried to think of the positive side, in that, at least they had each other so things were not so bad.
Leanne had all the lights on when I turned up – the porch, the driveway – cool. I knew I felt safe. Lee had a thing about safety and security – I’m glad someone did because I needed a little help in the ‘be careful’ department. I seemed to be blasé as far as these things go, well, so I’m told. I have only become aware of all of this because suddenly our quiet little home town has become a serial killers haven. I didn’t want my fears to override rationality so I focused on the thought that out of everybody in town, it was highly unlikely that anyone I knew would become a victim of this monster – even a small town is not that small. I clutched at this, knowing that I would use this in defence of all of Lee’s fears. It would calm her panicked state and maybe I would have been able to have convinced myself of the same by then. What else could I have up my sleeve if she didn’t buy into that? I guess it was better to be safe than sorry – we should just be on the look out for each other while this was going on. We should make plans like calling each other everyday when we get back from work. We chat most days anyway but it needs to be when you know the other is safe at home. We could also get a texting system going – have a password question and if it is answered incorrectly then you would know the other was in trouble. I focused on these positive action things, the more ammunition I had for Lee, the more comfortable and secure she would feel – and I knew she was not in a good space right now. I hauled my overnight bag out of the back seat, glanced behind me and pushed the door closed. I pushed away the uncomfortable thought of someone watching me arrive, it was Lee’s fault – she had planted that seed and watered it! She opened the front door and came out to help me with my stuff.
“God I’m so glad you’re here Sin – fuck! I don’t know what it is but…can you feel it? Can you?” she looked at me with a crinkled questioning frown and I wanted to scoop us both up and rush into the safety of her house but instead I swallowed hard, putting my head down as if I was going to flick my hair back so she didn’t see me swallowing like that – it’s a dead give away.
“Oh Lee honey, c’mon let’s go inside and calm down – there’s no one out here, I promise.” I said thinking, YOU FILTHY FRICKEN LIAR! Talk about hollow or empty promises, mine had an echo that wasn’t going to quit.
But he watched … his teeth bit his lower lip. The blonde greeted the dark-haired girl enthusiastically. He had wild visions of the two women fucking and he was so aroused he had to touch himself there and then. They couldn’t see him as the dark had wrapped itself heavily on the outskirts of the floodlit grounds, which was where he stood and watched them as he came. Trying not to grunt and trying to catch the semen, as he knew he could never leave a trace of himself – never. He wiped his hand on the inside of his shirt and tucked it back into his jeans. The women went inside, arm in arm. As the door closed he sucked at his lower lip, making a squeaking sound. Hmmm … He let out a large sigh of air and it hung in front of him – loathe to leave its place of birth. He was confused and that in turn filled him with hesitation. He who hesitates is wasting his Godamned time!
Disgruntled, he sunk his hands into his pockets, found a lonely cigarette. He pulled it out, stuck it in the side of his mouth and bled into the night. He knew the dark girl somehow, he recognised her, he felt her. Who was she and why did he get the distinct feeling that she would screw this up for him? He toyed cruelly with the idea of doing them both at the same time – it wouldn’t be a physical impossibility but he never intended to get caught so he wasn’t going to take that risk. Other things overwhelmed him at times and he took all of the risk, he took it with delight and glee. He would think to himself “Bring it fuckin’ on!” And the risk inspired and motivated him, transitioning him to yet another level. A level beyond average human comprehension, he was beyond normal and abnormal – he was just beyond. No, he thought, he would take his time with them both, but separately, enjoy the heightened intensity that only that one on one connection can create.
The police precinct was buzzing. Thursday night and it was all going down – hookers, drunks, thieves, and people-bashers – all kinds. Detective Malviston slugged back a couple of Cal C Vitas with his purified water. Rubbing his forehead he felt the lines of age and stress this job had given him. Why he had picked homicide as a career he’ll never know. The rest of the precinct knew. The old-timers knew why he stayed. Malviston was one of the most in-touch detectives they had ever been fortunate enough to work with. He had an uncanny insight of the victims and their killers. His right hand man, Luke Devlin sauntered into his office – trapping the noise outside when he closed the door.
“Jesus Luke, this freak has got me pinned – we’ve searched every file, hassled every hospital, pissed off every forensic friend I have and I still can’t get a grip!”
Juanita bustled in, bringing coffee and removing the per functionary information and papers that an indispensable secretary needs. Luke took a slow breath in and collapsed in the uncomfortable chair hugging the corner. He scrutinised the tired man in front of him. John Malviston – the best in the business of killers. Luke had been very fortunate to have been Malvistons protégé. He’d been with him for six years – since his mid twenties – a long time. Some might say too long. Others might think not long enough.
“We’ve had a couple of spook calls – people are jumpy and they’re seeing things. I’ve made contact with a hospital in Daytona who have some outsourced records in regards to one of the victims. Other than that John, I’m at a dead-end myself.” Luke said, knowing what John was going to ask.
John looked up at him, a look Luke had not seen before, perhaps of defeat, flashed across his worn features. Somehow his face seemed more lined and his hair thinner than when Luke had seen him yesterday.
“Max brought some info in on Katherine August – y’know she was seen at the medical centre in town?” John barely waited for Luke to acknowledge him as he carried on; Luke nodded anyway,”Yeah…”
“Well she was there for a termination, seven weeks pregnant – nasty business. Anyway,” John rubbed his hands over his face and spoke through his cupped fingers making his voice sound hollow and distant, “she had the termination on the day she went missing. Didn’t tell anyone, she was obviously embarrassed or scared.” John looked up from his hands.
Luke was biting his lower lip, imagining what it must have been like for this young woman to have to have made a decision to terminate her pregnancy and then to be confronted with a monstrous death. He wondered if she thought she was being punished as she was dying. Punished for doing the inexplicable. She took a life and so hers was taken too. Payback. “Bugger this Luke. Once this is over I’m calling it quits. I want some land and a life and my devoted wife all to myself! I’m sick of taking this crap home to Josie – I tell myself I’m not, but it comes through every day – every stinking day!” John said viciously.
Luke took a moment to look into his future and a pang of doubt struck him in the chest.
John kept calm. He placed his hands on his desk, looking down at them he said, too quietly, “We have to get this bastard … I’m going out with a bang Luke. I’m not gonna be some ex-cop that fizzled out – Fuck that!” Luke knew that feeling and felt the exact same way about his own career. It was unbelievably tough to scratch a way up into the ranks, John had got where he had wanted to, but he needed to make a mark before he left, a final legacy and it seemed that this case was it. John was an amazing cop; he had made a name for himself within the police force and on the street with both the criminals and the community. He was a good strong man with principles and rationality that would be missed when he finally left. Luke wondered if he could make this the old man’s bang that he could go out with, with his head held high and recognition right up until the end. Something was definitely going to happen as this was an intrinsic and confusing case that needed everyone’s strictest attention. Hard work and long hours loomed ahead for them both; Luke would try and bear the brunt of it.
© Kait King, 2015