I STILL DON'T KNOW...

            “He was a murderer, he’s always been a murder,” she smirked.

            “Explain.”
            “Ever since I met him,” she picked the skin on her hands. “He’s always been... Crazed? No.. That’s not the right word..”
            “Well, once you find it, don’t hesitate,” he stood up.
            “I don’t know, he’s just-- that way. No one was surprised when we saw his face on the news. We all suspected it, I guess we all just expected it to happen sooner.” She laughed at her words.
            “What’s funny?” The detective asked.
            “As I say it I realize how silly it sounds..” She sighed, playing with her jewelry.
            “People are being killed, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t laugh.” He snapped.

            “It’s just silly, I knew him for so long yet I did nothing to change what he was expected to do,” she sat back.

            “Do you feel responsible?” He crossed his arms.

            “Not in the slightest, it’s just what if I had changed his path?” She questioned.

            “Maybe he wouldn’t have killed your daughter?” He added.

            “Maybe..” She swallowed.

            “If you saw him again, what would you do?” The detective asked, curious.

            “I don’t know, hug him maybe?” She guessed.

            “He killed your daughter, and you’d hug him? I’d strangle him,” the detective chuckled.

            “I just knew him when he was still, him. I’d try to get him—the old him back,” her eyes welled up with tears.

            “You knew him on more of a personal level than a friend level?”

            “We grew up together, inseparable best friends. He always promised that he’d make life easy for me, I never wanted it but it was nice.”

            “You knew him as an adult as well?”

            “Of course, he was my child’s godfather.”

            “Why would you want someone you suspected to be a murder to be your child’s godfather?” The detective asked, shocked.

            “He had been there when things were rough, I wanted him to help my daughter out too. The same promises..” She trailed off, her eyes growing.

            “He said he’d eliminate anything that stood in my way of happiness…” She looked up, worried.

            “Was your daughter particularly stressful?” He asked, catching on.

            “She was like the devil himself, always stubborn, always rude, never grateful…” Her jaw shook.

            “Tell us about the others, why did he kill them?” The detective sat back down, jotting notes.

            “I swear, I never knew any of the others. It’s a mystery to me just as it’s a mystery to you,” her breath became uneven.

            “Are you okay?” The detective asked worriedly.

            Slowly she rose her hand and pointed behind him. A fogged over window was at the very top of the wall. A shadow of a man stood there, something most people couldn’t manage since the window was so far up. A sick grin was plastered on his face, he gave a small wave.

             

            I’m done being trapped. Done. Quietly I stood up and walked to the door, the stiff air shifting as I moved. Gently I put my hand on the knob. A skin piercing shock was sent through me, I felt cold. My heart slowed itself down but my nerves reacted quickly. I felt his eyes. He stared at me intently as I turned around.

            “What are you doing?” His rough voice shook the room.

            “N—Nothing,” I croaked out.

            “Remember that you wanted this,” he pulled my chin up. “Remember that you wanted to be away from them,” he pulled my chin closer to his face. Building the tension. “Be careful what you wish for,” he threw me against the wall before he disappeared.

            She rolled over in her bed, the white walls mimicked each other.

            “You can try to talk to her but she refuses to talk to any of us,” a nurse shrugged at the detective.

            “I need her information, even if it hurts to think about,” he walked into the room, knocking on the door.

            She had heard him but did nothing about it.

            “I’m Detective Will, I need to ask you some questions, is that okay?”

            “Whatever,” she mumbled.

            “I’m sure you’re sick of this by now,” he sat on the vacant bed next to hers.

            “I just want it to be over,” she wrapped the blanket around her.

            “You know he got another, right?” He glanced at her, noting how she presented herself.

            “He had him since the beginning,” she whispered, rocking back and forth.

            “What do you mean?”

            “He gets them after he starts getting bored of the one he’s got,” she sighed. “By the time you realize they’ve disappeared, he’s already made them his new victim.”

            “So that means—“

            “He’s got another one already, he has two or maybe three depending on how  he’s feeling.” She swallowed.

            “They’re missing and we don’t even know about it yet?” He started shaking.

            “You don’t ever realize what’s going on until it’s over,” She laid herself down.

            “I—There’s some research I’ve gotta do now,” he stood up.

            The poor girl jumped up instantly, ready to fight.

            “You’re fine, just stay calm and please talk to them, they’re here to help you,” he kneeled down next to her, carefully taking her hands. “Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?”

            “I never want to hear his name or see his face again,” her eyes were fierce and mean.

            “I’ll try my best,” he pulled her into a careful hug, knowing that she needed it.

            This place was always quiet, always taunting. I don’t think the sky ever changed, ever since I’ve been in here it’s been the same dark grey. The metal bit into my skin, my little attempt had set him off. I was going to be chained to the bed post until he wanted me to be his little slave. A scream echoed through the room, I’m pretty sure a hallway is outside of this room. Pleas for help bounced along the walls.

            I tried my best to tune them out, hoping—praying—needing. Needing this to be over. My heart raced as I hear something hit the door, his horrible laughter echoed through the walls—blood seeped through the crack under the door. Quietly the door swung open, letting the blood rush in.

            “If you’re not careful, this could be you,” he held up a bloody girl.

            The smell of dead pushed its way through the stale air. Most of the blood came from her head, her chest heaving unnaturally—gasping—begging for air.

            “Do you understand?” He asked.

            Quickly I nodded, not wanting to die. With a smirk he dropped the girl to the ground and swaggered toward me. He pulled my chin up, a sick look of hunger in his eyes.

            “Here’s a warning,” he said as he streaked a little blood across my cheek. “Remember that you wanted to be taken away. Remember how unfair it felt? Doesn’t this feel better?” He gripped my throat. “Doesn’t it?”

            Painfully I nodded—he still didn’t let go.

            “Remember how they treated you?” His grip got tighter. “Isn’t this so much better?”

            Slowly I rose my unchained hand and slapped him as hard as I could. In an instant he was off me and angry. For a moment I thought I had stunned him, he wasn’t moving so I had to have done something. Grudgingly he rose, his eyes ready to bite. Immediately he took my unchained hand and stabbed it to the wall. A searing pain shot through my arm.

            “Bloody--!” I started.

            He covered my mouth with his blood covered hand-- anger pulsing through his veins-- fear pulsing through mine.

            “You best watch out, boy.” He said calmly, yet angrily. “I saved you from your home that you took as a Hell. You wanted this. Anything to get rid of them. Anything to get away from them. Anything. Remember?”

            My body shook, scared. “What are you?” I asked.

            “Your salvation,” he grinned, hitting the knife, pushing it further into my hand.

            Days have passed and I still don’t know what to think. He’s unchained me from the bed but hasn’t done anything about my other hand. At this point I’m too scared to touch it. The skin around it has slowly started to heal, but if I move it it’ll start bleeding more. He hasn’t mentioned anything about what happened, and I’m not starting that conversation.

            The weeks before he captured me I followed this story. I noticed that he was always behind the missing people before they were reported missing.— I noticed that he would have multiple people in his grasp.— I noticed that he would sometimes kill them before they became his main kill.— I know I’m going to die soon.

            “Why haven’t you moved?” He spat as he walked through the door.

            “Are you bored of me?” I swallowed painfully.

            “Bored of you?” He asked. “Bored?”

            “Yeah,” tears welled up in my eyes. “Bored.”

            “A little tired of your attitude,” he took grip of the knife. “A little tired of the lack of gratitude.” He pulled the knife out of my hand. “A little tired of you.”

            Painful relief ran through my arm.

            “But no, not bored.” He kneeled down close to my face. “I know you might be one of the better ones.”

            “Better ones?” I asked.

            “You know, better ones,” he took the tip of the knife and drew my chin up, digging the blade into my skin. “A good child.”

            I didn’t want to talk, at least I didn’t want to try to talk.

            “I’m sure you know by now what my goal is,” he dug the blade in deeper. “I’m sure you know by now why I’m doing this,” his eyes flashed. “I’m sure you know by now how I’m pulling it all off,” a grin twisted its way across his face. “I’m sure you know by now what qualifies a person to be stolen by me,” he slowly got closer. “I’m sure you know by now why no one’s caught me.”

            My breathing became jagged as he pushed me against the wall.

            “I’m sure you know what I’m going to do to you, as well.” His face was calm, yet angered.

            “K—kill me,” I choked out.

            “Right you are,” he dropped me on the ground.

            He thought he had won.

            “You’re nothing without me,” I mumbled.

            He froze.

            “You can’t be strong without somebody there, without me, you’re nothing.” I had no idea where I was even going with this.

            “Are you really trying to speed up your death?” He asked, his voice heavy.

            “I’m just stating what the facts are while I still have time to state them,” I shrugged, pulling myself up.

            “Hm,” he smirked. “You think that the more you try to get into my head the more I’ll let you live? Cute.”

            “Pathetic,” he whispered, walking into the room. “You’re still trying this?”

            “Please, just let me go,” I begged.

            “No chance of that,” he smirked, walking over to me.

            “Please, I just want to be done with this.” My hand had partially healed. “I won’t let them know it’s you or anything.”

            “Hm.. I don’t believe that. Wonder why?” He said tauntingly.

            “I swear, I’m not lying.” I cried.

            “Cute,” he laughed. “You think crying will get you out of this mess?”

            All I wanted was to go home. Back to my family.— Back to my friends.—Back to my life. At this point I was willing to do anything to go back.

            “I just want to go home,” I looked up at him.

            “But I thought they were mean, I thought they were unfair. You wanted to escape them, didn’t you?” He smiled sickly.

            “I get it now! I know why, please, I just miss them. I want to go back and pretend like nothing happened!” I yelled, tears streaming down my face. “I just want to go back and tell them that I’m sorry, I know they’re trying their best now.”

            Pain flashed in his eyes. “You’re sure?”

            “Positive,” I nodded.

            Calmly he pulled out a knife. “Just remember that I will capture you again if it’s not fair,” he pushed it into the side of my neck. “Okay?”

            Quickly I nodded, pulling the blade deeper into my neck. Carefully he dropped the knife and pulled me out of the room, leading me down halls and stairs. I saw a handful of people who were caught, stuck in a room—alone. He was going so fast that I couldn’t get a good look at everyone he had in his grasp.

            Quicker and quicker, he lead me down to a door.

            “Walk,” he said.

            “What?” I questioned.

            “After this door, walk as far as you can.” He pushed me out- leaving me alone in the desert. 

A weak, bandaged girl sat in front of me.

            “We need your information,” I told him, being as gentle as I could.

            “I promised I wouldn’t say anything,” she shook violently.

            “That doesn’t help, we need you to tell us what happened while we were there.” I was slowly getting frustrated.

            “You don’t understand, the way I got out was by promising to not say anything.” She glared at me.

            “But you’re out, why can’t you just tell us how he looked?” I begged for information.

            “I know he’s watching,” she pulled her legs up to her chest. “I know he’ll get me if I break my promise.”

            “Forget it,” I shook my head, walking out of the room.

            “She won’t say anything?” Damien asked.

            “Nothing! She thinks he’s still here!” I kicked a chair, making a banging noise echo throughout the hall.

            “What’s she doing in there?” Damien looked through the one way glass.

            The girl had turned around, she was talking to what seemed like nothing. Quickly I flipped the switch that let us hear what was going on in there.

            “I know you’re still there,” she said, looking at the corner of the room.

            Out of nowhere a man in a floor length black jacket appeared, his face was concealed by the massive hat he wore.

            “What the?” I whispered, confused.

            Slowly the girl rose, wearily she walked over to the darkened figure, using all of her strength to move.

            “How’ve you been?” He asked, putting his hands on her shoulders.

            “I appreciate them more,” she nodded.

            “Good,” he pulled her into a hug.

            She gave a shudder but returned the hug, they looked like they could’ve been family. It was weird. Damien and I stood in silence for a minute or two, not processing it. Quickly enough I got into action.

            “Get me a gun, Damien.” I whispered, knowing what to do.

            “What?” He asked, a little stunned.

            “Now!” I shouted.

            “Here,” Damien fumbled, pulling a gun off of an officer who was standing by.

            I took the gun from Damien, slamming the door open. The man looked me in the eyes and disappeared.

            “You made him leave,” she looked at me like I was at fault.

            “Where’d he go?!” I yelled.

            “Right behind you,” his voice was suddenly in my ear.

            Instantly I spun around, but he wasn’t there.