…Wearing a Crimson Mask





The 911 call came in just before midnight, the bell of the phone ripping through the otherwise serene police station.

“What seems to be the problem?”

"Oh my god….I….He…..They’re…”

“Try to calm down.”

“Please help me.”

“We will. But first I need to know where you are and what’s going on.”

“I’m…..oh god…..no!!”

The line cut out, a dull buzzing was left in the ear of the sergeant.

“What the hell do you think that was about Eddie?”

“I dunno.”

“Neither do I. So, if she couldn’t tell me what’s up, I can’t help her. Ain’t that right?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Good. Now go get me another cup of coffee so I can finish watching the game.”

“Sure thing.”

Her shriek filled the house, replacing the comforting touch of the soft fabrics with a sharp, jabbing feeling. The door to the master bedroom was being forced against the hinges, its weight ripping slowly away from the wall. With each push the door revealed greater slivers of golden light from the hallway, and in that light the beads of sweat on her neck looked just like a string of fine pearls. Gasping in short breaths, looming wildly from side to side, she was panicking. The chain lock strained to hold back the intruder. But, before the chain could give way, the forces stopped pushing. The room was once again silent. She fell to the floor, a ball of tears and hysteria, the breaths coming shorter and sharper with each gasp.

She sat in silence, bathed by the fear dripping from her pores. Her breath caught up to her, and her mind began to work again. The room had been silent for almost an hour, the longest hour of her life. The fear was still there, but she had a feeling of security. Grasping the post of the bed, she clawed her way back to her feet. Slowly, barely moving at all, she slid over the hardwood floor, gliding like a spirit. Her hands trembled as the lock was slid out of its holder. The door creaked as it opened, and there was silence.

She slid her foot into the hallway, but there was resistance. She knelt down to the floor, unable to control the motion of her hands. She touched the ground, and brought herself face to face with her worst nightmare.

Her hand was soaked in blood, painting it a deep shade of crimson. Tears were flowing freely, dripping and mixing with her own blood. She tried to stand, her legs shaking, unable to support her weight. She fell back to the floor, her face inches from the growing puddle of blood.

A hand came out of the shadows and grasped her shoulder, pulling her up, and then covering her mouth. She let out another phantasmal scream before being muzzled by the powerful gloved hand. The stranger, hand over her mouth, grasped her waist from behind, and dragged her flailing body through the master bedroom, and into the sanitized white of the bath. She was thrown to the floor, kicked, a large boot standing on her neck, pinning her cheek against the cold, unforgiving tile.

She couldn’t tell what the stranger was doing, she could only hear metal clanging. The lights went on, and the stranger grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up, bashing her head against the marble counter. She never saw the cleaver, she only saw her blood soaked hand fall, unattached into the sink. Blood began to pour and spurt, and the stranger held her, letting the blood collect in the closed-drain sink.

She felt weak, she was growing pale, and she lost her strength. Sensing this, the stranger thrust her headlong into collected blood. She struggled to move her head, to get access to some air. But he was too strong, and she was forced to take in some of the blood. The gorgeous red liquid rolled down her throat, and coated her lungs. She was starting to spin, then dim, and then she was dead.

The stranger let his grip fall, and she flopped to the floor in a mess, blood still dribbling out of her excised hand, and covering the entirety of her face. She would sleep for now wearing a mask of crimson. The dead always looked better to him if they had some color in their faces.

“God dammit. I swear to you that if that girl has one more of her wild sex parties at this hour of the night, I’m going to get the cops on her ass.”

“Why don’t you just do it now? At least that way I can get some sleep and not have to listen to you bitch about it.”

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing. Now either call the cops or go to bed. I really don’t care which.”

“You know what. Just for that I will call the cops.”

“Good.”

She picked up the phone, and dialed the number of the police station. It took five rings before it was answered.

“Yes ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“You can answer the phone faster for one thing.”

“Sorry about that ma’am. I was typing…..some reports.”

“Sure you were. Anyway, I have a complaint.”

“What it is?”

“My neighbor is having a loud sex party in her house. She’s making a racket to the point where I can’t sleep. And I think she’s doing drugs too.”

“What’s the address?”

“45 Maple Lane.”

“We’ll check it out for you.”

“Thank you officer.”

She hung up the phone and turned back to her husband.

“See, I told you I’d do it.”

“Good. Now go back to sleep.”

“Eddie. Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m in the other room.”

“A lot of good that does me now. Why are you in there?”

“I was tired of listening to your snoring.”

“Eddie. Why the fuck did you let me fall asleep?”

“You seemed so peaceful.”

“Listen to me you fuck nut. Don’t ever let me do that again. Do you hear me?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Now get your gear. We’re going on a call.”

“Yes sir.”

“By the way, what was the address of that girl who called a few minutes ago?”

“Um…I think it was 45 Maple Lane according to the tracer.”

“I thought so.”

“Why’d you need to know?”

“It’s nothing.”

The car pulled up in front of the house ten minutes later. All was quiet, one faint light glowed in an upstairs window. There were no signs of the ruckus that was called in.

“Fucking hell. There’s nothing here.”

“I can see that sarge.”

“I guess we got to go take a look just to cover our asses in case that bitch is watching.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Hey Eddie.”

“Yeah Sarge?”

“Why don’t you stop kissing my ass for a minute and go take a look around?”

“Sure thing.”

In front of Eddie lay a small foyer; nothing was particularly distinguishing about it. It was littered with the usual accompaniments. There were a few umbrellas, a coat, and a pair of muddy shoes.

“Eddie, get back here. We did enough. Let’s go.”

“Hold it Sarge. I think there might be something wrong here.”

“And just what the fuck makes you think that?”

“Well, these shoes are wet and muddy, but the coat and the umbrellas are both dry.”

“So what?”

“So, I think something may be wrong here. I want to look around a bit.”

“Fine. You go look around. I’m going to be in the car with a cup of coffee.”

“I’ll be back in a minute Sarge. I just need to take a look.”

“Whatever.”

There was nothing to see in any of the downstairs rooms. Everything was in place, and everything was the way it should be in a house at this time of night. There were no other clues that seemed to jump out to Eddie. Unsatisfied with this, he went up the stairs, hearing each one creak under the weight of his frame.

The hallway was the only light on in the entire house. It was faint, but it was enough to get a picture. There was something outside of the door at the far end. He couldn’t make it out from the top of the stairs, because he had left his contacts at the station, so Eddie walked down to look at it. A few feet away, he could recognize it: blood.

“Sarge,” Eddie got on his radio. “I got something here. There’s a puddle of blood on the floor upstairs. You might want to take a look.”

Sarge’s voice crackled over the airwaves. “I ain’t getting out of this fucking car for anything.”

“Thanks Sarge.”

Eddie, now fully pissed off by the actions of his superior, took a few steps into the bedroom. There was a noticeable trail of blood droplets running into the bathroom. Eddie followed them, and turned on the light. Within three seconds he had turned around and vomited. The sight was just too much for him.

Scared for his life, Eddie ran down the hallway, stepping in the blood, and fell down the staircase, tumbling head over heals.

When Eddie awoke, the sun was out. He tried to sit up, but he felt dizzy. He scratched his head again, and with great effort was able to right himself. He blinked a few times to get accustomed to the light again, and began to get up. Stumbling, he made his way to the door. He looked out and saw his cruiser still sitting in front of the house. “Sarge must have fallen asleep again,” he thought. “I’ll go and give him a scare.”

Creeping low to the ground, fighting the cramps in his muscles, Eddie made his way to the passenger window of the car. He saw Sarge with his head back, asleep. Eddie popped up and stuck his head in the window. But instead of hearing Sarge screaming at him, Eddie was the one to scream. Sarge was sitting in the car, his throat slit, and what looked like his dick stuck in his mouth. Eddie vomited again, and passed out on the curb.

Eddie awoke this time to the sound of sirens. He was in the back of an ambulance, surrounded by doctors, a cold sponge sitting on his forehead.

“You must have been scared shitless by what you saw.”

“I don’t remember. What did I see?”

The doctors turned to each other and looked with plaintive faces. One of them nodded.

“Well, your Sergeant is dead. You found him this morning. The neighbors heard you scream and called for us.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Are you all right?”

“Did you look in the house?”

“No, why?”

“Fuck. There’s a woman in there that was killed last night. I was going to tell Sarge about it when I found him.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll call it in for you.”

“Thank you.”

With that, Eddie passed out again, safe that he had done his job.

Yellow tape was being strung around the house, quarantining the spirits that now haunt the premises. The house stood there, serene, giving no clue as to the events of the night previous.

“I bet you feel pretty stupid right about now.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You thought there was a sex party going on next door when it was really a murder.”

“It serves her right. A slut like her deserves to be dead.”

“Listen to yourself. You sound like some sort of preacher. All you are is disappointed that no one wants to fuck you like that anymore.”

“Don’t start with me right now. I am in no mood to do this again.”

“Too damn bad. You could use a dose of reality.”

“Go fuck off.”

Mrs. Flynn left the unfriendly confines of her house, poking her head into the sunlight. She was a nosy type, always finding her way into other people’s business. She was legendary in the neighborhood, and in the entire town for that matter, for knowing every detail about every person. She was especially fascinated by their sex lives. Being a former prostitute, sex was always on her mind. Even when she got knocked up at the age of 19, she couldn’t stop. She was at one time a beautiful girl, and all the men in town let her know it. She could not have asked for a better life at the time. She was making enough money to supply herself with all of the nice perks she felt she deserved; Gucci shoes, gold chains, Channel No5. She was satisfied in ever way imaginable. But there was the one night she made a mistake. She was drunk, a usual occurrence, when she forgot to take precaution. She ended up being pregnant by the local Catholic priest. He could do nothing for her that wouldn’t damage his own life, so she was out on her own. She turned to drugs, fist pot, and later cocaine and heroin. She became a mess, her child was taken from her, she was institutionalized. None of it did any good. She was still a mess until she met Gerry Flynn, another recovering addict who felt a certain pathos for the pathetic figure. He took her in, helped her clean up, and the two got married. They moved away from the drugs, but they always remained on her mind. No matter how much time passed, she was not able to forget how much she loved her former life. And now, after all of the drug use, she was only a shell of her former self. All of her former beauty had long since cracked and peeled off of her face, leaving her only marginal to the opposite sex. Ever since the recovery, she was obsessed with sex. She believed that if she couldn’t enjoy it in the manner she was accustomed to, that no one should. That’s why she was so angry with her now deceased neighbor. She enjoyed the type of hedonistic lifestyle that should be reserved for a certain few, a few which used to include Mrs. Flynn.

Outside, the cops were walking around slowly, marking evidence and doing other assorted police activities. When she poked her head out of the door, one of the cops noticed her, and made his way over.

“Excuse me ma’am, but I would like to ask you a few questions.”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“Thank you. So I was wondering if you heard any sort of commotion going on here last night.”

“Yes, I did. In fact, I called it in to you people.”

“Very good. Can you tell me anything about what you heard? Anything at all?”

“I heard some screaming coming from the house, so I figured that the whore was having another one of her sex parties. She has a lot of those. Some really seedy looking people come to them. I wouldn’t be surprised if this turned out to be a crack house.”

“And was the scream all that you heard?”

“Yes. I didn’t hear anything else, and I didn’t see anything through the windows either. I stopped watching once you people got here.”

“Thank you ma’am. That’s all I have for now.”

Eddie was sitting up in his bed at the hospital when the Chief walked into the room.

“Hey there Eddie. How are you doing?”

“All things considered, I think I’m doing fairly well.”

“Good to hear it. Now Eddie, we need to know what happened up at that house last night.”

“I don’t know what happened. All I know is that I found the body in the house, tripped down the stairs, and when I woke up I found Sarge dead.”

“Are you sure that’s all?”

“Are you trying to insinuate something?”

“Not at all. We just want to make sure we know everything that you do.”

“You do now.”

“Eddie, don’t be like this.”

“No. Fuck you. Don’t you dare come in here accusing me of doing something like that.”

“I did no such thing.”

“I know what you were thinking.”

“You don’t know anything Eddie.”

Suddenly, Eddie felt strange. Something seemed out of place with what the Chief was saying. He seemed like he knew more than he was letting on. Eddie decided that the best thing to do would be to stay quiet and play along with it.

“You’re right. I am just an idiot.”

“Now get some rest Eddie. You can have all the time off that you need.”

“I’ll be back to work tomorrow.”

“No you won’t. You’ve got at least the whole week off. Have a nice vacation Eddie.”

Now Eddie was even more concerned. He wasn’t the quickest of people, but it seemed to him like the Chief was planning something. Scared now, he got out of bed and packed his things into the pillowcase. He undid his IV tubes, peered out the door, and made a break for it. He was going to get out of this place to somewhere safe, and then he might be able to piece this thing together.

“Sir, I think Eddie may know something about what we’re doing.”

“And just how in the hell does he know?”

“Well…..I may have led on a bit too strong.”

“You idiot. We’ve got enough trouble already. That fucking moron got the wrong woman.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. There’s no way to get a hold of him now. The guy’s a freak. You know that as well as I do. He killed fifty people the last time he got out. We were taking a risk just by doing this, but it was necessary.”

“So what do we do now? If he got the wrong woman, does he know it?”

“He will soon enough. When I don’t deposit the money in that account, he’ll know. But he’s going to be coming after us too.”

“Then you should just pay him and get him off of our asses.”

“That won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“He’s going to come after us anyway. Paying him was only going to keep him at bay long enough for the cops to get him again. We’re fucked either way.”

“Shit.”

“Yup.”

Eddie slinked down the sterile hallway, the green linoleum feeling cold against his bare feet. Ducking in and out of the door jams, he had made it down to within a few yards of the exit. The guard was standing in front of the door, blocking his only chance of escape. Eddie looked in both directions for some other route to take, and he happened to glance upon a set of keys hanging on a hook. Eddie knew it would be a risk, but he had to find a way of getting those keys. Clutching his throbbing heart, Eddie slid his body around the sharp curve of the indentation he was hiding in. He dropped to the floor, and like a serpent slithered his way into the heart of the lion’s den. He was only three feet from the guard, trying not to breath, and scared for his life. He slowly made an effort to rise, and as he did so the guard moved, looked as though he was going to turn around, and returned to his former post. Eddie sighed inaudibly, and tried once more to reach the keys. His unclothed arm reached up into the fluorescent light, felt around with no precision, and landed upon the target of his desires. The keys slid silently off the hook and into his palm. His arm returned to his side, and Eddie slowly slid back out into the hall.

Eddie returned to his hiding spot and looked at the keys. They were for one of the ambulances parked outside. He had a way to get away from the hospital, but he still needed to find a way out. He racked his brain to think of everything that he had seen on TV, how the characters had gotten out of similar situations, but his mind was drawing a blank. He knew he was stuck, and that he was as good as caught if he couldn’t think of anything in the next few seconds. It was only a matter of time before someone would notice that he was missing.

The knife glinted in the light, the metallic blade reflecting into his eyes. It was an almost hypnotic view, and it was hard to put the knife back down once it was held up.

“Can I help you sir?”

It took a minute for him to answer, as he was still transfixed on the serrated blade of the knife.

“Yes. I’ll take this knife. And I was wondering, do you sell single barrel shotguns?”

“Why yes we do. They’re right over here.”

He followed the saleswoman over to the display, watching carefully as her teenage posterior jiggled back and forth in jeans that were too low for polite company. He swallowed hard, and licked his lips slowly, deviant thoughts running through his mind.

“This is our best model. You won’t find a better shot than this.”

“I’ll take it, and a box of ammunition.”

“I’ll check you out right now.”

“Thank you. By the way, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Jessica. I’m Jessica Sowell.”

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

As he walked out of the store, a cruel smile was forming on his usually stoic lips.

The alarm sounded, filling the air, and making Eddie jump in surprise. He thought that he would have another minute or two before he would be found missing, but his calculations were wrong. Now he had nothing left to lose, and knowing this he bolted out and towards the door. The guard saw Eddie coming and motioned to retrieve his gun. Eddie got to him before he could grasp it fully, and took him to the ground, the back of the guard’s head making a dull thud against the hard floor. Eddie stumbled back to his feet, the guard motionless behind him. Pushing his way out of the doors, Eddie looked wildly to either side. He saw an ambulance sitting in the lot, and he looked at the number written on the side. It matched the keys in his hand, so he knew how far he had left to get to freedom.

The doors were thrown open behind him, and Eddie looked back while still sprinting. There were at least ten members of the staff chasing after him, at least half of them gasping, short of breath. “So much for doctors following their own health advice” thought Eddie to himself as he reached the driver’s side door of the vehicle. It was unlocked, and Eddie got inside in one fluid motion. The ignition turned over, and Eddie was soon speeding through the lot, forcing the doctors and nurses to abandon their feet to save their own lives. He swung out onto the street without paying attention to the traffic, and he was free. They wouldn’t catch him now, because he could easily ditch the ambulance in an alley and use his connections to keep himself afloat. Now all Eddie had to do was find out what was going on higher up in the department, and why they needed him dead.

There were no lights on in any of the windows of the house. It seemed as though no one were home, but he knew better. He had been sitting outside for hours now, and he had seen her enter with another man. Images were running through his mind, at first wholesome, then deviant, then perverted, and then sadistic. He wasn’t about to let this snarl in his plan ruin his fun. He crossed the street, strode up the sidewalk, and ascended the few stairs to the front porch.

“Did you hear something?”

“No. You’re just hearing things.”

“I swear that I heard something. I’m just going to go check.”

She went to get up, but his hand forced her back to her knees.

“You promised that tonight would be the night. I swear to you that there was no sound out there. Can you please just forget about it?”

“I guess so.”

“That’s a good girl. Now close your eyes and get ready.”

She closed her eyes, leaving him in a world of shadows. She was breathing heavily, trying to calm herself enough to do this thing that she wasn’t ready for. She kept her eyes closed, and held out her hands, feeling around. She grasped what she thought she was looking for, and placed it to her mouth. Something seemed wrong to her, and she opened her eyes to the sight of the man who purchased a gun from her earlier. That same gun was pointed right at her, placed in her mouth, his finger on the trigger. The last thing she ever saw was the look of his red eyes piercing the otherwise black night around him.

The alley was gray, covered in a fine film of grime, and was completely out of the way. Eddie didn’t feel safe though. He knew that they would be looking for him as he stood silently against the great brick wall, his chest expanding and contracting, drawing several breaths into his lungs in an effort to calm his nerves. His eyes, once steady, were darting from side to side in a mad craze. He didn’t fixate long enough for anything to come into focus. The world became a blur, and Eddie was safe enough with that inevitability. The ambulance was three blocks away, left behind in a similar alley, hopefully buying him enough time to settle himself, and find a way to get back to his own house. If he could get there, Eddie would be able to gather the equipment he would need to be a fugitive for a while. Without any supplies he was useless, and would be caught in a matter of hours.

A faint siren grew in the distance, it’s atonal pitch burrowing into Eddie’s eardrum, tightening the skins, and adding pressure to the already overworked brain. The siren was moving closer, it’s Doppler noise raising in pitch, then falling off right as Eddie was at the brink of cardiac arrest. He had held his breath for nearly three minutes as the siren made it’s approach, and ultimately passed him with no incident. His cheeks slightly blue, Eddie gasped several times. The color retuned to his face, at first a healthy almond, then a bright red as blood circulated with fervor to his bulging cheeks. With the slight spinning sensation is his head almost gone, Eddie pried himself away from the wall, and started to move out of the alley. The sirens were gone, so Eddie was safe for a few more minutes.

The sunlight entered the gaping pupils of his eyes, and Eddie shielded himself. He squinted, blinked, and turned away. It took several disorienting minutes before he was able to fully open his eyes. As his focus returned to him, he could see people on the other side of the street staring at him. Eddie must have looked like a demented escapee from the mental institution; his hair a mess, wearing ragged and blood stained clothes, visibly disoriented. He knew he was making a scene, and he knew that it would draw attention. Attention was the last thing he needed right now.

“Would you look at this here in the paper.”

“Look at what?”

“This article right here on the front page. It says there was another murder in town last night.”

“So what?”

“So? The girl across the street was murdered two nights ago, another one was murdered last night, don’t you think that sounds a bit suspicious?”

“You’re not trying to get me involved with some crazy, crackpot theory are you?”

“It’s not crazy. Something is going on here in town, and I don’t like the sound of it.”

“What’s it matter to you? If it were a serial killer or something, you have nothing to worry about. He’s killing young, attractive women. You’re neither.”

“That’s not what I was talking about, but thanks for the compliment. You do realize that you aren’t exactly Narcissus yourself, don’t you?”

“I know what I am, it’s you who’d deluded.”

“So now I’m deluded?”

“Yes. You are. You’re always thinking that you’re still able to get any guy you want. I’ve got some news for you. If you could, you wouldn’t be sitting here with me.”

“Don’t drag that into this discussion again. You promised me you wouldn’t.”

“I know what I did, but if that’s what it takes for you to stop being so god damn bullheaded, I may just have to.”

“You cold hearted son of a bitch.”

“Say it all you want. You know damn well that you need me.”

She began to sob, putting a cheap tissue up to her eyes, rubbing them to the point of redness. The acidic nature of the tears slowly dissolved the delicate fabric at her eyes, leaving her holding shoddy rags, reminders of the pain she had left behind for so many years.

“Excuse me Sir.”

“What is it?”

“We may have a problem.”

“What sort of problem?”

“The sort that we discussed yesterday. He seems to have realized that he got the wrong woman.”

“What has he done?”

“Last night a young woman was found shot to death in her house.”

“And why do we assume that our friend had something to do with this?”

“There was a calling card.”

“What sort?”

“After she was shot, her face was smeared with blood to match the victim he drowned.”

“We are being punished. You realize that I would hope.”

“I do.”

“Good. Now we must repent, and if we are forgiven, this suffering shall cease by nightfall.”

“Yes Sir.”

Eddie was weaving his way through pedestrians on the sidewalks, little people with meaningless lives, the sort of people he knew looked up to him as a pillar in the community. He passed them, wearing their uniforms of coarse materials, their blue collars shining brightly in the overwhelming sunlight of the afternoon. Their lives, usually nothing but an afterthought, seemed to Eddie like the greatest gift from God. They lived and died in obscurity, nothing they couldn’t handle ever passed by them. No one ever tried to kill them; they would never be put in a position where that sort of thing could happen to them. They would live their little lives, go to work, have a family, without a care about their own mortality. But Eddie had to choose this line of work for himself. He wanted to be someone. He wanted to make a difference, and now he realized that the only way to make a difference, the only way to be someone, was to give yourself away. He would have gladly given all of his glamour up for the unassuming lives that the normal people lead.

He was standing at the edge of the sidewalk, the cold gray concrete cracked and fractured like the many facets of his life. He took a hard swallow, a deep breath, and the first step in running away. Those chasing him had not yet reached the house, it was still as he had left it, and if he were to get away, it was the same way that he would have to leave it again. Heading upstairs, Eddie grabbed a travel bag and threw a few identical shirts and pants into it. He went to the closet, opened up the entrance to the small attic, and fished a small silver box off of the ledge. Opening the delicate sterling lid, feeling the punched pattern on his shaking fingers, he removed a .45 from a velvet resting spot. The gun was a gift from his grandfather, given to Eddie on his deathbed. Eddie could never bring himself to carry the weapon, let alone fire it. But with his issued weapon no longer in his possession, it was the only means of defending himself that he had left.

Eddie picked up the spare shoulder holster, bending the fresh, smooth leather, and strapped it on. The .45 found a home in the case, and Eddie turned around, grabbed his bag, and headed out the door again. By the time he was at the end of the street, the gravity of the situation had struck him. If he were to do this, there would be no turning back. He wouldn’t be able to go back home. He would have to leave his life behind. But Eddie was ready for this, as he had never built much of a life to begin with. He was singularly obsessed with his job, and he never had time to make friends. The few times that he did make the attempt to do so, or to meet a woman for some companionship, he fell flat on his face. He had been rejected so often that he had become bitter to the idea. He was comfortable living by himself, and he saw no reason to change.

The market was buzzing with activity by mid afternoon, and Mrs. Flynn walked amongst and flirted with the various vendors. It was the most attention that she would be able to receive, and she took every advantage of it. It had been so long since she had been looked upon in that manner, that even if these people were only being friendly, it was enough for her. She had nothing in mind that she needed to purchase, she just needed an excuse to get out of the house, and away from him. Everything he said had been true, but she was afraid to admit it. She didn’t like being indebted to anyone, least of all that callous bastard. The warm, sticky air would be good for her. Her tears would not be able to fight through the thick humidity, they would stay in place in the corner of her eyes.

She had quickly grown tired of searching through the usual piles of assorted junk that filled the market; the broken and beaten, the unwanted, the useless. It was too much of a reminder of her own life, she needed to get away from this too.

As these thoughts were running through her head, a pair of eyes, bright red in the sunlight, fixated and focused on her. Trained in like a rifle’s scope, the eyes followed her movements, carefully measuring the target for the right moment to strike. She walked briskly, moving past the casual greetings of the local vendors, seemingly oblivious to their cordiality. His head cocked slightly to the side, one eyebrow raised slightly, puzzled by this behavior. Had she somehow seen him and known that she was in danger? That was impossible. She had no idea what was going on. It must be something else.

Disappointed that he wouldn’t get to carry out his duties here in the market, he turned on his heels, silently, and walked straight into the back of one of the sellers.

“Howdy there. You interested in buying something?”

“I don’t think so.” His voice was raspy, thin, and grating. It was the sort of sound you would expect to come more from a power tool than from the vocal cords of a person.

“That’s a mighty bad cold you must have there. Funny to have one this time of year.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Well anyway, how would you like to buy your very own homemade mustard? I guarantee it’ll be the best thing you ever put in your mouth.”

“Not interested.”

“Everyone loves mustard. I’m sure you have some use for it.”

“What part of not interested did you not understand?”

“I’m just trying to make a living here.”

“I can see that. In fact, I’m going to do you a favor. You won’t have to worry about making a living for quite a while.”

“Oh yeah? What you got in mind?”

“Grab as many boxes of that stuff as you can and follow me to my car.”

“Yes Sir.”

The two men, boxes of homemade mustard in hand, strode through the market and out towards the parking lot. There were only a few cars, as the market was located in the center of town, and most people who attended would gladly take the short walk on a day like this one.

“It’s right around this corner.”

“I’m right behind you.”

As the two turned the corner, they entered an alley with only one entrance. There was no car sitting and waiting for its owner to return. Only the usual suspects were present: a dumpster, assorted trash, rats, and a passed out drunkard. The confused vendor put down the boxes that were in his hand, scratched his head, and scrunched his leathery face in puzzlement.

“Did you get lost here?”

“Not exactly.”

Before the vendor could say anything else, the other man had grasped him by the throat, clenching his fist, crushing his trachea. There was a slight cracking sound, then only gargling. Running out of air at an alarming rate, this was not good enough. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a large knife, and examined it in the golden sunlight that slivered into the alley. He jumped on the vendor, pinning his arms to the ground, and began his surgery. He showed extreme skill with the knife, cutting like a master chef preparing a dangerously poisonous blowfish. When he was done, the vendor was already dead, sitting cold on the pavement. He stood to rise, holding the severed face of the vendor in his hand. It stretched and bent, looking as though it were ripped from the canvas of a Dali painting. Turning it over, he replaced it on the man’s skull, leaving a makeshift crimson mask. He bent over and stared the lifeless corpse in the eyes, and as he did the reflected blood made his already red eyes glow even more vibrantly.

Eddie kept to the side streets, using their tree lined sidewalks, and hedge lined yards as cover. He had been running for only a few hours, and he was already on the verge of collapsing. It was taking a toll on his mind that he had not foreseen, looking at everyone as though they were after him. He couldn’t trust any of his friends to help him out, since he didn’t know what he was dealing with. All that he knew was that he had to keep moving, he had to keep himself alive. He stopped for a moment to rest, leaning against a great oak tree on the corner of two empty avenues. His eyes made their way together, ending for a moment the chase.

He awoke in a sudden, sensing something wrong, and he bolted away from the tree. As he did, the tip of an axe buried itself deep into the flesh of the tree, prying itself out again before the tree had any time to call out in pain. Eddie ran for his life, not looking back to see who was after him. He darted into a yard, jumping over a small child’s play set, and pushing through a thick hedge. He was back out on one of the main streets of the city, cars buzzing in every direction. This was no time to be indecisive, so Eddie plunged himself carelessly into the midday traffic. Horns blared, brakes screeched, metal twisted and collided, as Eddie was able to find himself on the opposite side without any injury. Again he didn’t dare look back. He ran through the remains of the strip mall abandoned years earlier, finding a rickety ladder against one of the buildings. It didn’t look like it could support his weight, but he had to try. The metal frame buckled and swayed as Eddie made his way into the sapphire sky, but it didn’t collapse. Eddie was able to get to the roof of the building, and as soon as he was up, he pulled the ladder behind him. In one piece the metal beast dislodged form it’s host, and found it’s way horizontal next to Eddie. He was safe for now, he tried to control his breathing, and he found himself falling asleep again.

“Sir, I think this is getting a bit out of hand.”

“What happened now?”

“They just found another body. This one in an alley in broad daylight.”

“So he’s getting more daring.”

“Which means that he may have the nerve to come after you.”

“He wouldn’t do that until his mission is over. Until they find her dead, there’s nothing for us to worry about.”

“But if he’s starting to do things in daylight, what if he gets caught?”

“That’s very funny. Now tell me, who’s going to catch him?”

“Someone must be able to. He was in prison.”

“He may have been in prison, but no one caught him.”

“Then how’d he end up in there?”

He was expecting an answer, but all he heard was the sound of bitter laughing mixed with a wheezing cough. It was unpleasant, and went down like fire burned molasses. He looked down and took his leave. Shit was going to go down, and he didn’t want to get caught in the middle of it.

She was sitting by the bay window, letting the sun warm her up from the cold reaction she was getting.

“I’m telling you that something felt strange at the market.”

“That’s great. I’m telling you that you’re crazy.”

“Why don’t you ever believe me?”

“Think about that one for a minute. Would you believe yourself?”

“I know damn well who I am, and it has nothing to do with this. I’m scared for my life. I felt like someone was watching everything I was doing.”

“And tell me, why would someone be watching you of all people?”

“I don’t know. I just want you to do something to make me feel better.”

“I don’t know how to when you’re acting like this.”

“You used to.”

“That was a long time ago, and I was a different person back then.”

“You were a better person back then.”

“Well, that may be. You’ve taken an awful lot out of me over the years.”

“Don’t you try to blame this on me.”

“Who can I blame? Huh? You tell me.”

“Stop doing this. Please. I need you.”

“I know you do. “

“So can we please just stop all of this?”

“For now.”

Eddie felt warm as he jostled back to consciousness. The sun had been beating down on him for hours, slowly roasting him, turning his already weak body into a leathery ball of pain. He looked down at his watch, his eyes slowly trying to be rid of the sunspots, focusing as best he could on the small metal gears. He had been asleep for only three hours, and he felt like crap. Running had taken too much out of him, even though he had been at it for less than a day. He broke down, putting his head in his hands, tears running down his face and staining the cuffs of his shirt.

After a few minutes of self-pity, Eddie composed himself, breathing steadily in long, slow, deep breaths. He rose to his feet, moved to the edge of the roof, and looked down over the edge. The town was eerily quiet for this hour of the day. Eddie scratched at his scalp, turning over in his mind the various possibilities for the desolate streets. Nothing sprung to the forefront, but there was suspicion that the recent murder may have something to do with it. Eddie was right, but for the wrong reasons. On the run, he knew nothing about the last two murders, the suspected wave of a serial killer that was running throughout the city. If he had known, he wouldn’t be out on the streets running.

Eddie came to a realization standing atop the old building, the sun beginning to set in the background, that there was something going on in the city that was much greater than him running on the bad side of the Chief. All he needed now was a way off the roof, as the old ladder had fallen and broken when he had pulled it up on the roof. He was trapped for the moment.

“Shit” he mumbled under his breath.

The night had fallen quickly, blanketing the city in a cloth of soft black velvet, lulling the residents into blissful slumber. The night was a respite from the wear of the daily grind, refreshing the otherwise worn out people enough to endure another day of the same hell. The night was also perfect fodder for nefarious actions by desperate men. But this was not a desperate man. He was in complete control of the situation, his body, the minds of his victims.

The Flynn house was sitting quietly in front of him. Last time he was in this neighborhood he picked the wrong house, but he was sure this time that he had the right one. The house itself was disgusting, a small ranch house with a shade of yellow that reminded him of the color of a deep bruise after the blood disappears, but before it is healed. The lights were all off, the residents assumedly asleep; unaware of what was to come.

Despite the fact that this was a dangerous time, and that these were scared people, the back door of the house was not locked, swinging open with just a light application of a finger. A small smile cracked on one side of his mouth, bending it not into the avatar of celebration, but into a cruel, disturbing, and ugly vision. Inside the door, the kitchen of the small house presented itself, sheathed in the same disturbing shade of yellow as the exterior. His red eyes burned brighter, casting a dull red shadow over the room. He went over to the drawers, rummaging through, casting the excess on the floor. He went through two drawers before he struck upon the target of his fancy; a double pronged serving fork of great size. He held it in front of his face, and satisfied, he began walking to the bedroom.

The hallway was filled with little trinkets, porcelain figurines, photographs of the family. None of them were the least bit interesting, and if anything only made his resolve stronger. The door to the bedroom was locked, a strange occurrence in a house that was not. He let out a small sigh of frustration before taking a step back, and kicking the door off of its hinges.

The door fell to the floor with a dull thud, kicking up clouds of dust from the usually ignored carpeting. The figure in the bed sprang up to a sitting position, and before a sound could get out of his mouth, the intruder pounced upon the bed as though he were a jungle cat, and thrust the prongs of the fork deep into both of the cold blue eyes he was staring at. The screams were terrifying, and he did nothing to muffle them, as he was busy searching for more equipment. She was not there, so this was a waste of his time. He had been foolish again. Though he had the right house, as evidenced by the photos, he had picked a night where she was not at home. His eyes were almost aflame as he produced a small bucket and a scrubbing brush. He hated the yellow that so dominated the entirety of the house, and he thought it was time for some redecorating.

When he looked back into the room, the man was laying on the bed, rocking slowly back and forth in the fetal position, moaning slightly. He had become used to the pain, and was starting to develop a kinship with the blindness. He walked over to the bed, placing the bucket on the floor, at the foot of the bed. With both hands he grasped the man by the head, spun him around, and hung him over the side of the bed. With precision and grace he produced a small knife from a ring on his belt, slit the suffering man’s throat, and let the blood drip into the bucket. It was not quite kosher, but it would be good enough for the cause.

Eddie, now limping after jumping from the roof, looked carefully before entering the police station. He wasn’t sure who among his fellow officers was in on whatever plot there was that they believed Eddie had stumbled upon. He had to take precaution. The front desk was empty, as it always was at this moment, at the designated break time. Everyone would be locked in the game room with a box of donuts, a fresh pot of coffee, and the big screen playing whatever game the network was broadcasting this night. Money flowed freely during these times, as bets attempted to show off the knowledge each had regarding sports. Of course, this was all a crapshoot, as betting like this was no more skill than it was luck.

With everyone otherwise occupied, Eddie was able to move freely, and he went straight for the Chief’s office. As a matter of showing how accommodating he was, the Chief had removed the lock from the door, which let Eddie easily walk in and begin to look for some clues as to what was going on around him. He didn’t have long, the break would be over soon, and the regular rounds would begin again. There were various papers strewn on the desk, but they were all standard paperwork. Eddie tried the drawers, but found nothing. The bottom drawer of the desk was locked, but being as the department had such shoddy furniture, there was no top on the drawer, and pulling out the one above it let Eddie gain access to the secured documents. Inside this drawer were a gun, not standard issue, a bottle of Jack Daniels thoroughly drained, and a manila folder. Eddie opened the folder, and there was only one piece of paper inside it. Eddie wasn’t sure what it was at first, but in a matter of seconds he pieced the puzzle together. Now he was even more scared than before, his teeth chattering despite the unusually warm night temperature. His hands no longer moving with precision, Eddie replaced the folder as best he could, removing the gun, placing it in his belt, and trying desperately to restore the desk to its former state.

Checking his watch, Eddie knew that he had two more minutes to get out of the station again before he had to worry about being seen, but he dashed for the door anyway. As the large oaken door slammed behind him, Eddie darted out into traffic, and made his way out of downtown, moving in the direction of the Chief’s house.

Mrs. Flynn put the key into the lock, turning it slowly, feeling the tumblers click into place. It was one of the simple pleasures that she had grown to love over the years, and in times of fear like these it was even more of a comfort. She locked the door behind her again; feeling the two locks click shut, and sliding the deadbolt into place with security. She was tired, and she only wanted to get some sleep. It had been a long day of worrying, and she was worn out.

She was oblivious, and didn’t notice that the door of the bedroom was not hanging properly on its hinges. She still turned the knob and pushed, and the door fell to the floor for the second time this night, this time revealing a red room, painted with the blood of her husband. Panic crossed her mind, which became lightheaded and dizzy, and she passed out before she knew what she had just seen.

Eddie was out of breath from running half way across town, but he didn’t stop. He kept running through the streets, his teeth grinding together; hate being exhaled through his mouth, floating into the night sky as little clouds. Eddie couldn’t think anymore, he was at that stage where rage takes complete control of the mind and shuts out every faculty of reason. All Eddie could do was hate, which was evident in the way that he shook the foundation of the house with his knocking. He could see lights come on immediately, and footsteps led to the door.

“Eddie, what on Earth are you doing here at this hour of the night?”

“I have a little matter to discuss with you.”

“It can wait until the morning.”

“No. It can’t. We need to talk about this right now.” With this Eddie pulled out the Chief’s own .357 and pointed the barrel down his nose.

“All right. We’ll talk now. Come on inside.”

Eddie followed the Chief into his study, hearing the sliding wooden doors close, liking the privacy that they gave.

“Now Eddie, what is so important that you had to wake me up?”

“Tell me everything.”

“Tell you about what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You know that I know some of it. Tell me everything right now, or I’ll blow your son of a bitch head right off your shoulders.”

“Calm down Eddie. This can all be handled civilly.”

“No it can’t. Tell me now, or you die.”

“How much do you know?”

“I know everything that’s in that little folder in your desk.”

“How did you…. No, on second thought, don’t tell me how you did that. I’d rather not know.”

“So tell me the rest of the story.”

“There isn’t anything to tell. That’s all I know.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m being honest with you. That’s all I know.”

Eddie clicked the hammer on the gun, which was still pointed right down at the Chief.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Now don’t do anything stupid Eddie.”

“Tell me, right now.”

“All right. So you know that monster was released out into the public.”

“Why?”

“There’s this woman who’s a political threat.”

“And someone wants her dead.”

“That’s right.”

“You know the next question. Who is it?”

“I can’t tell you. If I do, you’ll go and try to stop it.”

“You’re right. I will do that, but you’re going to tell me. Otherwise you die. And just so you know, I have no qualms in killing you. Remember when Jenkins was shot by the fuck down at the harbor?”

“It was a tragedy. But at least you caught the guy.”

“Tragedy nothing. I shot him because he was stealing money from the department. So don’t think I won’t kill you for this.”

“You…..” The color was draining from the Chief’s face, being replaced with a stoic white plaster, the kind that could be shattered with one blunt force.

“That’s right. I did it. Now tell me what I want to know or you’re next.”

“All right. I’ll tell you.”

“Good.”

“You know how Father Bailey is going to be introduced as a Cardinal on Friday?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“He has a fear that this woman is going to cost him the opening.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know her name. He never told me.”

“Don’t fuck with me. You know, and you’re going to tell me.”

“All I know is that her name is Flynn. I don’t know anything else about her.”

“That’s a start. Now, how could she threaten him?”

“Years ago, when he just started out in the clergy, he had a lapse of judgment. He fathered a kid with this woman, and afterwards there was nothing he could do, or else he would get kicked out of the clergy. So, he had the child taken away from her and put her in an institution for a while. Now, he thinks she may still be bitter enough to speak out and cost him his dream.”

“I would be worried too. But why did you help him out?”

“He has other connections. If I wasn’t the one to do it, he would have gotten someone else to, and then I would have been put on the hit list for knowing what was going down. I had to save my own hide.”

“I guess you did.”

“Now Eddie. There’s nothing you can do about this. You know as well as I do what that monster can do. You’d be committing suicide to try anything.”

“Maybe so, but I have to do it. I can’t sit back and watch this happen.”

“Good luck Eddie.”

“I don’t need luck.”

Eddie put the weapon down to his side, turned to the door, then spun on his heels and put a bullet between the eyes of his former Chief. Most of what he had been told was true, but Eddie knew that the Chief was covering his ass. He didn’t let the monster out to save his own ass. He had some sort of stake in this mess, but Eddie didn’t know what that was. He really didn’t care either. He had a mission to accomplish, and the petty foibles of the Chief were beyond him right now.

Mrs. Flynn woke up to the smell of concealing blood, a stench that reminded her of her former life. She didn’t faint this time upon seeing her room covered from floor to ceiling in blood, her husband laying over the edge of the bed, arms outstretched towards her, beckoning for help, his face painted the same deadly shade of the walls. She was deathly afraid, she was panicking, but she was able to keep her head together. She reached for the phone, hearing nothing against her ear, and threw it in anger against the wall. She was now alone in the world; the one man who had accepted her was gone.

She had no intentions of doing anything beforehand, but finding herself alone, and with nothing to lose, she was going to do everything that she could to put an end to the career of Father Bailey. Her husband had been against the idea from the start, telling her how well she had moved on, how her life didn’t need to go back to that time again, and she had believed him. She had no choice but to believe him. If she didn’t, she would have been dead a hundred times by now. But now, she had nothing to live for except revenge; and she was going to get hers.

The next two days were tough on everyone. Father Bailey was getting ready for the greatest day of his life, knowing that it could still come crashing down in a moment. Mrs. Flynn was trying to keep herself alive, hiding in the unused rooms of friends, moving every few hours. Eddie, no longer afraid of anything, was sitting in his house, waiting for news of another murder to be revealed to give him something to chase. But no news came in these two days. The monster had been silent, waiting in the shadows for his time to strike again. He was planning something, he could not fail in his mission, if he did he would not be accepted into the kingdom of heaven.

Friday morning broke in a wave of clouds; the sun’s rays pricking at their surfaces, making them cry their tears on the city. Father Bailey paced back and forth in his chambers, having gotten no sleep the night before, he was a wreck. It was only two more hours until his coronation, and he was restless. That infernal woman was still alive, and he couldn’t accept that. He needed this day to go off without a hitch, and she was the only thing standing between him and his destiny. The monster had failed for the first time, a stunning occurrence. He should have known better than to bring back a killer who’s glory days were behind him already. It had been years since he had killed, and he had lost his knack. While the inconsequential kills were impressive, they meant nothing.

There was a knock on the door, it opened, and there stood the very woman that he was just finished lamenting. She was still the same woman that had caused him to lose his faith for that night so many years ago, and standing there he could remember why he had lapsed.

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought I would come here and talk to you before I did anything rash.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was going to tell everyone about you and me, but I thought I would tell you first.”

“But why?”

“I guess I wanted to see if you had repented for what you had done in the same way that I have.”

“My child, there is no way for me to do that. I have done nothing.”

“I didn’t think you had. I just needed to know.”

“And now you do.”’

She didn’t notice, her eyes focused on the floor for most for the conversation, that Father Bailey had concealed a letter opener under the one of his sleeves. He moved over to her, and put his arms around her. She didn’t reciprocate, and he seemed to grow colder as he held her.

The knife like device found its way through her ribs, lodging itself in her heart. She struggled to push some sort of sound out of her throat, able to produce nothing but a thin gargling noise. She fell to the floor on her knees, looking up at the Father with her green eyes, and in that moment her began to realize what he had done.

“Don’t you move an inch you fucking piece of shit.”

Eddie had been a few moments late, arriving only as she hit the floor. His gun was raised, cocked, and ready to fire.

“My son, do you intend to shoot a holy man?”

“Holy nothing. You’re a fucking disgrace to everything. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.”

“If you do, you cannot be forgiven.”

“I’m too far gone already. Try again.”

“Well my son, I guess I have no reason to stop you.”

“Damn right you don’t.”

“Just do me one favor before you kill me though, would you?”

“What?”

“Would you mind reciting the last rights?”

“Fuck no I won’t do it.”

“As you will.”

Eddie lined up the shot, but as he began to squeeze his fingers, he lost control of his movements. The monster was standing behind him, and had buried an axe at the base of his skull by way of the top. Eddie fell to the ground, the gun still in his hand, his head revealing the split between himself and what he had become.

“My son, I knew you would come and rescue me.”

“Shut up.”

“But my son….”

“Don’t say anything. You promised me salvation. An unholy man cannot grant salvation. You used me.”

“Don’t look at it that way. You did a good thing.”

“No. I killed people who didn’t deserve it. I understand that. I tried to pay for my sins. But you kept piling them on. You didn’t give a damn about my soul. And for that, you must lose yours.”

“You’re being rash. Once I become a Cardinal, I can get you salvation. I really can.”

“I’m tired of your bullshit. It’s over. We can finish this when I get to hell.”

The rain had cleared up, rays of sunlight peeking through the gray clouds, illuminating the great doors of the church. It appeared to the gathering crowd as though heaven itself were smiling down upon them. It was truly a holy day for all involved. Among the crowd, the press was gathered outside of the church, waiting for an event of such rarity to commence. It was rare for any Cardinal to be named, but one from this city was so unlikely that it would surely never happen again. It would be the story of a lifetime for them, and someone’s career would be made off of this.

They were all anxious, waiting for the time that they could enter God’s building and celebrate this event. It was just turning eleven in the morning, and when the bells chimed from the great stone tower, the doors swung open.

The scene was not what anyone expected, two dead bodies lying on either side of the altar, and Father Bailey hanging, crucified on the replica cross. He was wearing a crimson mask, and had a sign around his neck. It read; “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

The new Chief of police had suspicions that this was the work of the monster, but when he went to investigate, he was locked away safely in his cell. Puzzled, he questioned him anyway. The monster told him the story of what happened, and the Chief was willing to accept his self-discipline. He told the press that the killings were the work of a copycat killer, and that it would likely remain unsolved, but that there was no reason to fear. They would be well protected. And the monster remained in his holding place, repenting all the while, waiting for his judgment by God; he would accept no other.