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Detective Hart, standing in the alley, looking at the writing, that had dripped threads of blood, now dried, on the brick wall, the blood smeared words haunting him…. “catch me if you can”…. thunders through his thoughts, and he remembers standing in this spot some time ago.
Lisa’s body lays cold, under the bright lights, that now flood the dark alley, with brilliance, the once pretty woman, now stiffened, and lying for all eyes to see, having her humanity striped from her, strangers eyes now see, what was once private, strangers hands touch, what only a few, was ever allowed to touch, she is now just an object, being processed, by the crime lab.
One of the cops asked how many does this make now?
Detective Hart just answered tiredly, to many, then asked, whose beat is this, the same cop answered back, mine sir.
Mine and Phil my partner…..wasn’t this the same alley that a body was found a year or so back? Yes sir just about where this one is now…… I can’t remember any writing back then…….. there wasn’t was there?
No sir, just a pretty little thing all cut up……we never cleared that case right?
No sir not that I know of. HEY PHIL…… yeah?….. Come here….. remember that little girl we found here about a year ago?……..Yeah pretty little thing…..was that case ever closed?…..no …at least I never went to court on it.
Ok guys thanks……if you think of anything give me a call…….sure detective, will do.
MAY 7TH 2010
Stony Brook Collage, setting on rolling hills of green grass, and old wood timber, young nubile coed’s, were entering into the courtyard, to attend a memorial set up on this bright and warm Friday afternoon to honor the six deceased members of the collage.
Their pictures standing in a row, on easels, black ribbons bracked the cornors of the frames, young people milling around, with tears in their eyes. Looking at friends, they will never see again.
Most just happy they were not the ones in the frames, that their lives will go on, not knowing that a mad man, walks among them, not knowing of his plans.
David, sees the guards, they seem to be everywhere, campus security, regular police, looking, watching, as he files past the pictures, with out showing any outward signs of the pleasure and excitement he feels, the easels now overflowing with flowers and crosses being placed in piles, to honor the dead.
David smiles at a tearful pretty young woman, and tells her in a low voice, of how sad, it is that this event had to take place, that they were so young, she nods and her tears flow even more.
David beats back the urge, to take her throat in his hands, and squeeze until her tongue slid out of her mouth…….. hearing his mother whispering in his thoughts…….whore….. instead he smiled, saying did you know them well?
Detective Hart, is also there watching, seeing a tall man, somewhat disheveled, in the milling crowds of people, motioning to a uniformed police officer, pointing out the tall man, telling him, to keep an eye on him, grasping at straws.
David, setting in the back row, listening to the eulogy, looking sadly on, while inwardly enjoying the memories of their dying, their screams, the smell of their blood, the sounds of their gasping out in pain. David was having a hard time keeping a smile off his face.
As the crowd left the memorial, and went their different ways, detective Hart stopped the tall man, with the unshaven face, and uncombed hair, pleasantly asking what his name was, he answered politely I am professor Dean Munce, of the collage of history.
And was asked if he knew any of the victims…….saying yes two of the girls had been students of his. Thanking him and letting him go on his way, writing down the information, in his note book, detective Hart, was still stuck on page one.
David dressed in his Sunday best, walked by the detective saying pleasantly good afternoon, then added…….a sad day isn’t it?
And walked slowly passed him, turning to walk by the fence of the empty football field where a group of cheerleaders were practicing for the up coming cheerleading nationals.
David’s memory’s of cheerleaders, are unpleasant ones, ones that he can not erase…… their cold eyes, staring through him, as if he didn’t exist, the whispers, from their lips, of the hateful name, they had given him, after he was shoved into the hall, naked, mortified, and crying.
The mocking screams of laughter, that would follow him as he passed, “tiny” would reverberate throughout the hall, with cruel laughter coming from their beautiful lips.
Watching the girls going through their somersaults and pyramids, listening to their shouts and laughter, gave rise to David’s hate, the memory’s of his mother, and the beatings, now mingled with the laughter of the past. The headache’s starting now, to return, the voice whispering, her message, chanting, mocking. Inflicting the same pain in his thoughts as she did on his body.
He wanted nothing more then to run into them, shooting and stabbing, to watch the horror on their faces, to hear their screams, to taste their blood, but his power, was now locked away in a tin box, in the bottom of his dresser drawer.
David felt naked, with out his talons, the claws lay silent in the bottom of the box, but tomorrow is a different day, he smiles, tomorrow they will know, tomorrow they will see the fiery hawk, tomorrow they will feel his redemption.
MAY 8TH 2010
David rises eairly, showers and shaves, fixes breakfast for him and his cats, smiling, humming, petting felix behind the ear, while Tommy rubs himself, on David’s leg, thinking of the cheerleaders, the voice fully awake now, never far behind in David’s thoughts.
A far off rumble of thunder, jars David out of his dreams, and into motion as he goes to his dresser, and opens the box, feeling the power, as he touches the instruments of death, his talons, his gateway to the Gods.
Scratching Felix once more, David, leaves, and climbs into his car, heading for his date with the cheerleaders.
David, parks, in a small office parking lot, a short walk to the campus, being pushed on by the bitch in his thoughts, he hurrys, as the approaching storm starts to sprinkle, wetting his head and shoulders.
He sees young tender girls running past, to get out of the rain, some that would die well, but his mind is set only on the cheerleaders, as he enters the gym, knowing they would be inside on a day like this.
Entering through an open outside door, David, steps inside, stopping to get his bearings, hearing footsteps, watching as a pretty young woman wearing a gray tee shirt, with STONY BROOK stenciled in black across her breasts dipping in the valley, and gray sweatpants, that hid her long legs, her shiny dark hair tied up in a ponytail.
She has a whistle around her neck, that hangs straight off her breasts, swinging slightly as she approaches, telling him he’ll have to leave, that the gym is closed, showing her authority in her voice.
David just smiles and thanks her, as she politely but firmly leads him to the door, David lets her get a step ahead of him, then reaching around her chest with his left arm, with his right hand, he grabs the left side of her chin, twisting sharply, hearing a loud pop, as her neck breaks, and her knees buckle, a thin trail of blood leaves her pretty lips, her eyes opened in a shocked, vacant stare.
David grabbing her wrists, dragging her across the gym floor and into a small utility closet, just big enough to house her body, standing for a minute, looking at the pretty young woman, her eyes staring back, head cocked oddly, the utter surprise of death etched on her pretty face. David reaches down, taking the whistle and inserting into her slightly open mouth, David stands once again smiles at her and blows her a kiss, then shutting the door, he leaves her setting in the dark.
Hearing faint squeals of laughter, and running water, David heads for the sound……… ear shattering noise now erupts, someone has just turned on the pulsating beat of rock, the volume cranked to the max, the sound crashing off the walls, almost drowing the voice out of his head.
The headache builds, the bitch thunders louder, overriding the music, mocking him, beating him, as though she were still alive, David enters an open doorway, walking around a corner, stopping and observing two young women who are laughing, swaying their hips to the shattering beat of rock, looking over their shoulders calling out to their friends,
Both are standing in bras and panties, towels to their hair, when the dark haired, beauty turned, and saw david smiling a few feet away.
David, raising his hand, watching her large brown eyes grow, as she saw the gun, the scream that started to rise in pitch, was shut off, when David pulled the trigger, the gun belching flame and smoke, the explosion drowned out by the sound of rock, as the bullet tore through the base of her throat.
Spraying the now screaming blond, with her blood as she spun, crashing into an empty locker, bouncing off, hands to her throat, twisting as she fell across a wooden bench, bolted to the marble floor.
Blood, spurting as if it were a water fall from between her fingers, coloring her white lacy bra red, her body sliding off, the bench to lay curled on the cold marble floor.
The blond a paniced look on her blood speckled face, backing up trying to turn, screaming for her friends, to help, until two bullets slammed into her stomach forcing the scream, into an OOOOOOoooooooooo, as she grasped her torn belly, and staggered away, until her legs buckled, and she fell to her face.
Both girls still moving, but the dark haired beauty was just twitching now, as blood pooled around her, and in a few minutes the twitches would stop, David has seen it all before.
He leaves her as her gurgling slows, and with a final twitch, she lays still, turning his attention to the blond, David knelt, and turned her over, saw her fingers digging into her stomach, her eyes tightly closed, gasping out moans through blood drenched lips.
David, puts his gun in his pocket, lifting her body into his arms, brushing her golden hair out of her eyes, feeling her shutters, watching her bloody lips bubble, as she cries out mom…ooooh…..momma.
Taking out his knife opening the six inch blade, holding her tightly, then plunging the blade into her stomach, under her clawing hands, once, twice, three times watching her face, with a grin on his own, every time he twists the blade, her eyes would open wide, gasps of pain exclaimed with each thrust and twist. Wiping the blade on her lacy white bra, putting it back into his pocket, as she murmurs, mom…maa…aaa…. once more before she shutters, and slowly relaxes.
David rises, letting her slide off his lap, falling on her back with a thud, gun now in hand, turns his attention to the shower, hearing as the water falls, and the laughter, echoes off the walls, standing in the open doorway, unseen for a moment, watching as eight, beautiful nymphs, splashed and played, David yelled out loudly…..DADDY’S HOME….as eight beautiful faces turned as one, and sixteen hands hurriedly covered breasts and pussy’s……….. then his gun fired.
Young hands that once were covering themselves in modesty, now reached outward as if to swat the bullets away, crowding together trying to use each other as shelds, only making the target much eaiser to hit.
David watched the group, as they moved backwards the girls in front twisting as the bullets hit, he laughed as a brown hair beauty, flew back in the arms of the others as her body, sprouted fountains of blood,
A beautiful red haired girl broke from the pile of waving arms and bloody torsos, her light red pubic hairs still soapy, large breasts bouncing with each jarring step.
Screaming at the top of her lungs, heading straight toward David swinging a bar of soap attached to a threaded rope, with a frightened determined look on her face, David laughed at the sight, as two more got up to charge, four others lay in a bloody pile, To his left a little blond crawling slowly on her belly, across the shower floor leaving a bloody trail behind her.
David let the red head get close and then shot her in the lower belly, her momentum brought her into his body, bouncing a step backward, she fell forward and slid down his legs to lay at his feet, he shot the next runner a dark haired beauty in the side as she ran by, she spun and slid on the marble floor of the locker room.
The last girl ran past, her green, eyes wide, mouth open in panic, long brown hair whipping her back with her movement, shrieking HELP…HELP…David tried to fire, but the gun was empty.
Stopping to reload, shoving another clip in, taking his time as he left the shower and locker room, watching as she ran naked, screaming HELP, at the top of her lungs, down the long corridor to the gym, David raising his hand, as the gun erupted three times, laughing out loud and doing a little jig as she flung her arms upward, and her back arched as the bullets penetrated, her legs still moved for three or four steps, until her knees caved in, pitching her forward to her face, bouncing and sliding several feet.
Struggling she had risen and staggered for several steps, only to fall to her knees doubling over holding herself tightly, with her left arm, and hand, her right, arm straight, hand on the floor bracing herself from falling.
When he went to her, a hidden memory of the past, flashed of the old David, and the bitch….. both watching a dog, that had been hit by a car, the brown haired girl had the same scared look on her face, as the dogs.
Her head was hanging down much like the dogs did, she was panting, as it had done, blood was pooling on the hardwood floor, from her wounds, and mouth, much like the dog that was bleeding out on the pavement.
He remembered the old David crying as he watched the dog die……. And the bitch swatting him in the back of the head, jerking his arm roughly, pulling him away from the dogs death.
David, not giving her the same consideration, that the dog got, kicked her onto her back, grabbing her ankles pulling her down the long corridor, leaving a bloody trail.
She died somewhere between the gym and the locker room as she was being brought back to be with her friends. David entered the locker room, dragging the dead girl behind him, smiling and yelling out……. I’mmmmmm….. Backkkkkkk…. Then laughing out loud, dropping her ankle as he reached for the radio, slamming it to the floor.
Entering the shower, looking at his work he saw the red head sitting leaning her back against the tiled wall, holding herself just waiting to die.
Sitting down beside her, as she held her belly tightly, asking, what’s the matter, have a tummy ach? Then chuckling, David couldn’t remember when he has had so much fun, yelling out…..WHOSE TINY NOW BITCHES….. and hearing it reverberate all around the shower.
David looks at the red head, taps her on her knee, and says to her, don’t go anywhere I’ll be right back.
David walks to the pile of bodies, laying in the rounded curve of the shower, as he splashed through the streams of watery thinned blood, that was running to the drain, he unpiled the girls seeing that three of them were dead, but the fourth a pretty blond, was still breathing, dragging the pretty blond to where the red hair girl sat holding herself in pain.
He looked to the blond haired girl who had dragged herself, out of the pile and to the opposite wall she was laying on her stomach doubled up and very still.
Going to her he found that she too was still alive, dragging her to lay by the other two girls, telling the red head, make sure they don’t escape, then laughing at her, he drags the dead girls out of the shower, sitting them one by one in front of the lockers.
Their legs spread open so they wouldn’t fall, leaning their backs against the lockers, their heads all hanging to their chest, in his placing of the bodys he discovers, there are only nine girls, six dead sitting in a row, and three in the shower, but he knows there were ten.
He sees a few drops of blood, heading behind the last row of lockers and peeks around the cornor, seeing no one there, but the blood drops ended in front of the next to last locker.
Banging on the door, he hears a crying out of fear and anguish, a tone of defeat in her voice, opening the door saying…… peek-a-boo I see you….. finding the black haired runner that he had shot in the side, pulling her out, and draggin her to a bench in front of the lockers, that the six dead cheerleaders were leaning on.
Laying her on her stomach, kicking her legs apart, unzipping his paints, David roughly enters her, her rape was as harsh as David could make it she screamed out in pain, it echoed through out the tiled room, until David wraped his arm around her throat.
Pulling her head back, still inpalled with his cock, she tried to pull his arm away from her throat, her hands were hitting, her legs were trying to disloge him from her back, she fought to live, and she fought very hard, her tongue, left her mouth as David pulled her head as far back as he could, her hands that were hitting, and pulling now slid off David’s arm, to wave helplessly in the air, her legs now fell, and only twitched, then her arms fell down to her side, fingers curling and uncurling, and in moments they too fell silent, David held on for a minute more.
Then dragging her off the bench, to sit her along side her friends, the only one with her tongue hanging out, he watched the red head come stumbling out of the shower room, grasping her lower belly, bent over as she shuffled past him, not paying any attention just putting one foot in front of the other, leaving the hell she was in.
David watched with a smile, as she slipped in the blood on the floor, and fell to her knees, and then pitched forward, her travels now over, as she lay still, he went into the shower, checking on the two girls, and found that they now lay dead.
David admired his days work, as he pulled the still breathing red head to her allotted place in line, leaning her back against the last locker,, slapping her face until she opened her eyes, she wanted to spit at David, but didn’t have the strength.
David sat on the bench, watching her haggard breathing, looking at her breasts rise and fall, telling her if you don’t die, I’m going to stick you.
She tried to sit straighter mumbling, ffffuuccckkk…..yoooouuuu aaassss….hh, and got no futher as her head fell to her chest, and she slid down to lay on her side, David straightened her back up, aligning her body as the rest.
David, dipping his hands in the blood, making his signs, his laughter now echoing in the silent locker room
Lingering, David’s noise high in the air, sniffing like the animal he is, his lungs filling with the scent of blood and death, turns slowly, leaving the locker room, pausing, looking back for a moment, a smile of satisfaction on his face, David walks through the gym and out the door that he came in.
His thinking clear now, the God’s have giving him a semblance of peace, the bitch, curled up in the recess of his thoughts, the rain washing the blood off of his hands and face, as he walks, in peace, down the empty sidewalk, to his waiting car
The nightshift janitor coming through the gym, opened the utility closet, and stepped back, shock written on his face, at seeing Miss. Wiggins sitting, inside, her eyes glazed over, and wide open staring up at him with a whistle in her mouth.
Detective Hart standing in the locker-room, in the middle of the carnage, almost speechless, written in blood on the lockers, were messages, painted on locker doors…..EENY MEENY MINY MOE…..TEN LITTLE INDIANS……WHOS TINY NOW BITCHES…..DETECTIVE HART CATCH ME IF YOU CAN…..HAHAHAHA……THE GODS LOVED THEIR SCREAMING…………I’VE JUST STARTED
Grown men were weeping at the sight, of seeing the destruction of so many young girls, and they handled their bodies with reverence.
David was loading his car, a for sale sign planted in front of the bitches old house, his next door neighbor, Mrs. Emery was hovering close, helping David put his meager belongings in his car, already promising to care for Felix and Tommy, his two cats.
Telling her thanks, and goodbye, she was waving, and softly crying as he pulled out of the drive and headed down the street.
He had never been to St, Louis, but he liked the sound of the name, and he smiled widely as he drove slowly passed the collage, seeing all the police cars lined up, wondering who he would meet in his travels.
The bitch was quite at last, the Gods were silent, the headaches gone, he replayed the memories over and over, longing to tell someone, a kindred soul, to share the thrill with, maybe in St. Louis, but no matter his memories will last a lifetime.
A story by Nighthawk