AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Kai bellows out a laugh, one so thoroughly contagious in its genuinity that I can’t help but join in. “I was just fucking with you guys. I had to interrupt, otherwise we might have been standing here for the rest of eternity with fossils in our pants at the rate you were going. Plus, I think Ezra was ready to murder Nic there, and we can’t have that! Can you imagine the paperwork? The horror!”
“Kai! What the fuck!” My face is aflame as I busy myself with my containers. “Let’s just get this done, shall we?”
“Just tell me what to do.”
9
It takes the rest of the day–with multiple food breaks–to empty out most of the containers and we have narrowed the suspects down to just five possibilities. I let my hands feel over the papers and photos tacked to the cork board, each one sending another layer of unease or fear shooting up my spine.
Suspect number one: The Connoisseur, Alfred Bernard, age thirty-five. Serial rapist and killer with nine known victims.
Suspect number two: The Silversmith, aka William Crew, age forty-three. Serial killer and collector of sorts with three known victims. He killed his victims without leaving a mark, by injection between their toes, before turning them into living trophies. He’d dunk them in silver, or gold, and display them in glass cases around the city. Victims were chosen by strange or unique qualities or features; a woman with severe vitiligo, a man with an extra finger, an albino child.
A blind psychic…
Suspect number three: The Vigilante, aka Frederick Smith. Serial killer, age twenty-four. One that I kind of wish had never gotten caught. Fourteen victims exactly, each one violently sodomized to death, each one a proven child molester and rapist. He wasn’t even angry when caught, didn’t even try to run. He accepted his fate and thanked me for taking my time in catching him.
A secret I’ll take to my deathbed.
The only reason he knew I waited was because I visited him after seeing the vision from his first crime scene. I knew then that he had a list. A very…justified list, one that involved his–then recently deceased–twenty-six year old sister and seven year old niece. So, I wasn’t much help to the department with that case.
The reason he made it onto the board is from what happened after he was caught. He’s grown...unhinged in the past few years. Apparently his mind snapped from the guilt and justification that continue to war inside of him until this very day. He’s even sent me quite a few letters that have proven his descent into madness.
A sad case all around.
Number four: The Angel, aka Jacob Blay. Age fifty, serial killer. A complete and utter psychopath if I’ve ever known one, with eleven known victims. Childish in his mind in many ways and unable to truly comprehend his actions and obsessions.
He was called The Angel by the media because all his victims were carved post mortem with holes in their bodies you could see directly through. He would string them up where the sun would hit them just right at the time of their discovery, giving the appearance of the sun shining through them and making them almost glow. The media–the toxic shits that they are–named him The Angel because he made peopleholy. Which is the absolute dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.
He grew an obsession with me after I kept speaking in interviews and calling him Mr. Swiss Cheese. The years that have passed have done nothing to quell his obsession, either.
Fucking shiver.
Suspect number five: The Bagboy, aka Doug Wineburg, age eighteen. I caught that asshole just last year. Serial rapist and killer. His victims varied, but his modus operandi–or MO--was always the same. Plastic bag shoved over the woman’s head and raped while being asphyxiated. Nothing particularly special about him other than he was the creepiest of creeps, one who grew interested in me as I chased him. His spree only lasted one week with a total of thirteen victims. Like he got a single taste and just couldn’t stop.
I have no real idea if my stalker is one of these guys. We will have to follow up on where they’re at now or whether they have accomplices. But it’s all I have to go off right now. I need to feel like I’m doingsomething.
“You really know how to make the strangest friends, Wick.” Kai scratches at his head, his aura focused completely on the board as the coarse sound reaches my ears.
“Can you please stop calling me that? I’m not a candle, Kai.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and adjust my newest pair of aviators on my face.
“I think it’s fitting. You set me aflame in all the right ways,” he teases, his aura flashing with interest before fizzling out as I readjust a photograph on the board, feeling it until I'm sure it’s straight.
“Wouldn’t that mean I’m a lighter? Or a match? Something that actually makes fire. Wicks just burn, yo.” I grin as he lets out an exasperated sigh.
“You take all the fun out of coming onto you, you know!”
“Is that what it was? Bro, you gotta work on your game!” Finishing with the board, I turn and cross my arms over my chest. “I say we call it a night and make some calls on these fuckers tomorrow. Anyone like pizza?”
“Woo! Pizza party!” Kai hollers before I hear the muted sound of ringing through a phone and I know he’s already on it, so I don’t have to worry about doing it myself. “What kind do you like?”
“Pepperoni with black and green olives,” I respond, eliciting the sound of Kai’s exaggerated gagging.
“That’s disgusting! Blech! Who even are you?”
“Woah! Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it! That shit is to die for! Oh, and get one meat lovers for Gizmo and Snitch.” Only more sounds of absolute disgust answer me before Kai starts spouting his order into the phone and going to find Nic to see what he wants. From what it sounds like, we’re feeding a damn army.
Left in the room alone with Ezra, I’m prevented from having to make awkward small talk when a knock sounds out on the door. As I move to unbolt all the locks, I feel the muted but familiar aura on the other side and debate for a second whether I should open it or not.
