Part 3
“What the f---- is …” I stammer, halfway whimper, as the words that stumble out my mouth come back as a hard gulp of air. My eyes bulging, I begin to scream, and try to kick my legs from the burning rope across feet, I thought were free, my lungs burning, brain light, body heavy. My toes wiggling restrictively, as I realize, there are no clothes on my disgustingly thin body. My blue suit I put on this morning is gone; all that’s left, a blue bra and some satin orange panties ,but this is no time to be self-conscious about matching. After adding more tape, he sits in a recliner five feet away from my face.
He moves as if I wasn’t there, first going into the kitchen to get some food off the stove and then sitting down, holding a beer. My screams, muffled gasps, not to much longer... I began taking short breaths as my mind begins to wander around the room. I sit next to this old Technicolor T.V, the carpet is gray and drab, all the blinds closed, it seemed to be an apartment in the sketchy side of south town.
I will become a form of entertainment in between commercials, a side act before I die. At the first commercial, in between a Hungry Man's meal, he rises and comes to my side. Chewing loud and mechanically, He begins softly pressing his hands against my back putting those small hairs on edge. Each heartbeat gets more shallow. Then he kissed me!
Directly on my neck, his lips. It sends an almost erotic pulse down my spine as my eyes grow heavy. My body begins to slump in the rickety wooden chair. What is left of reusable air in the bag has disappeared and I can’t decide whether I’m staying alive to see how far this sick son-of-a-bitch will go or if I was truly living for something worth living for before this whole situation.
***
“What are you willing to do” The sergeant asked head cocked to the side as his belly burst out the sides of a striped white shirt damp with sweat stains under his arms.
“If you really want to catch a freak of nature like this guy, you have to be prepared to get into his head”, he says, as we sit on the bench outside of the Police Department.
“This guy has already killed two people and the only thing that we have to link them together is four strands of hair, and his profile didn’t come up in the system” he says, the captain has been giving the whole department pressure over the bat and asphyxiation case that is making the media crazy. “No one likes the idea of a murderer without patterns, that lawyer and the agent, Mr. Betways and Mrs.Conner, were totally different people. The only thing they had in common was white collar jobs and hair.” I nodded affirmatively, as if, I know how to put these four follicles together and find the killer before dinner like Sherlock Holmes “Yes, captain, I understand” I say.
Nightmares have haunted me ever since the body of Betways laid there limp in that room. It was as if I could see the bat slamming into the right side of his brain over and over again ,but it was never from a distance always less than a foot from his groveling face, watching sweat drip down his face as he begged for his life and then it would switch back to my haunting face, fierce, unforgiving.
“Well, honestly, all we can do is wait and watch and hope he strikes again and that last body, final clue, will be his last”, I stare straight into his eye hoping my cool assurance will pass the test.
“That’s if he lets us find the body this time”, Mrs. Conner, Sandra, was found on Route 18, , bras and panties, bugs over her skin, her body in fetal position. Her face was a distasteful cream ,but she was so beautiful when she was alive. She did tax work for my parents every year, I had never gotten the courage to ask her out. It was so sad, for both of us.
Post a comment for more. Thanks for reading.
He moves as if I wasn’t there, first going into the kitchen to get some food off the stove and then sitting down, holding a beer. My screams, muffled gasps, not to much longer... I began taking short breaths as my mind begins to wander around the room. I sit next to this old Technicolor T.V, the carpet is gray and drab, all the blinds closed, it seemed to be an apartment in the sketchy side of south town.
I will become a form of entertainment in between commercials, a side act before I die. At the first commercial, in between a Hungry Man's meal, he rises and comes to my side. Chewing loud and mechanically, He begins softly pressing his hands against my back putting those small hairs on edge. Each heartbeat gets more shallow. Then he kissed me!
Directly on my neck, his lips. It sends an almost erotic pulse down my spine as my eyes grow heavy. My body begins to slump in the rickety wooden chair. What is left of reusable air in the bag has disappeared and I can’t decide whether I’m staying alive to see how far this sick son-of-a-bitch will go or if I was truly living for something worth living for before this whole situation.
***
“What are you willing to do” The sergeant asked head cocked to the side as his belly burst out the sides of a striped white shirt damp with sweat stains under his arms.
“If you really want to catch a freak of nature like this guy, you have to be prepared to get into his head”, he says, as we sit on the bench outside of the Police Department.
“This guy has already killed two people and the only thing that we have to link them together is four strands of hair, and his profile didn’t come up in the system” he says, the captain has been giving the whole department pressure over the bat and asphyxiation case that is making the media crazy. “No one likes the idea of a murderer without patterns, that lawyer and the agent, Mr. Betways and Mrs.Conner, were totally different people. The only thing they had in common was white collar jobs and hair.” I nodded affirmatively, as if, I know how to put these four follicles together and find the killer before dinner like Sherlock Holmes “Yes, captain, I understand” I say.
Nightmares have haunted me ever since the body of Betways laid there limp in that room. It was as if I could see the bat slamming into the right side of his brain over and over again ,but it was never from a distance always less than a foot from his groveling face, watching sweat drip down his face as he begged for his life and then it would switch back to my haunting face, fierce, unforgiving.
“Well, honestly, all we can do is wait and watch and hope he strikes again and that last body, final clue, will be his last”, I stare straight into his eye hoping my cool assurance will pass the test.
“That’s if he lets us find the body this time”, Mrs. Conner, Sandra, was found on Route 18, , bras and panties, bugs over her skin, her body in fetal position. Her face was a distasteful cream ,but she was so beautiful when she was alive. She did tax work for my parents every year, I had never gotten the courage to ask her out. It was so sad, for both of us.
Post a comment for more. Thanks for reading.