In An Instant

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1)

Submitted: June 09, 2007

Reads: 166

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 09, 2007

A A A

A A A

Chapter 2

After Yvonne Edwards I knew that I would do it again. How could I not? But I would have to be more careful. No more casual picking up a woman at a bar. Bars have too many witnesses and I had been extremely lucky the first time. I couldn’t count on my luck to last. Preparation would have to take the place of luck.

So for six months I prepared. I did nothing but work, eat, sleep . . . and watch.

My next victim would have to be opposite of my first so as not to alert anyone that something was rotten in Denmark. There could be no patterns if this was to work.

I went to shopping malls, grocery stores, even Bingo games as they ended for the night. I always parked far away from everyone else and made sure that no one saw the binoculars or my little notebook full of characteristics of the people I watched.

I finally made a decision that this one should be an old lady, at least sixty. That way there could be no correlation to Yvonne Edwards. Yvonne had been a drug abusing bar hopping slut. Annette Young was a member of a Bridge club that met every Tuesday night and Bingo was her private passion.

Of course I didn’t know these things when I first saw her pushing her shopping cart from the A & P on a tepid fall evening. Most of the times a bag boy would help the older patrons to their car with their groceries but I could tell by the proud way that she walked that Annette turned down this service every time it was offered. And I was right. I saw Annette at the A & P three times over the next four weeks and every time she came out it was alone with her shopping cart.

It took me almost another month before I could decide where to take her from the A & P (probably too risky) or when she was leaving Bingo on Thursdays. It turned out to be neither.

My golden opportunity finally came after her weekly Bridge game. She was over at a friend’s house (her turn to host had been the week before) until an hour past the time that the game usually broke up. I had seen the two other players leave at the normal time but no Annette. I almost went home for the night then but something (it could have been Yvonne Edwards’s eyes) held me back. When she finally did come out I was close to asleep. I woke up when the light reflected off of the open storm door struck me. My first instinct was to sit up behind the wheel of my truck but I kept myself tucked down low so as not to bee seen.

Annette was still talking to her friend on the front porch so I sat up and started my truck, put it in drive, and left. I drove slowly, knowing that Annette drove fast and that she would catch up with and pass me in no time at all.

After driving for a few minutes I thought that maybe I had left too soon. Then I saw the familiar shape of headlights belonging to a Honda Accord, the same kind of car that Annette drove.

I slowed down intentionally, knowing with almost certainty that she was cursing me under her breath. In a minute she would get frustrated enough to pass me. She flashed her bright lights at me once and then swung around me on the left.

What happened next happened so fast that I really didn’t believe what I was seeing. But I saw it all. As she crossed back into the lane ahead of me a skunk walked out into the road. Through her back window I saw her jerk the wheel first to the left, then sharply back to the right as the skunk continued crossing. Her passenger’s side tires blew dust from the ditch and then her car was flipping towards the woods that crowded the road along Route 44.

Her car struck a tree nearly head on and died. I resisted a strong urge to slam on my own brakes, thinking about the skid marks that would be left if I did.

I slowly came to a stop about a hundred yards from the tree now bisecting Annette’s headlights.

I looked in my rearview mirror and saw no vehicles approaching. I put my truck in reverse and backed nearer to her car, careful to stay on the road bed and not leave any tire tracks on the shoulder. The only acceptable evidence was no evidence.

I got out of the truck and made my way down to where I was could hear Annette moaning. Pulling my sleeve over my hand I reached out and opened her door.

She had been wearing her seatbelt but had still rapped her head on the windshield somehow. The airbag hadn’t worked. I could see a star shaped crack in the windshield and a splatter of blood in the middle.

The green glow of the instrument panel turned the blood on her forehead into something much darker than it was, maybe molasses.

Her eyes were closed but a small moan still managed to escape her lacerated lips every few seconds.

Still using my shirt sleeve (I made a mental note to start keeping gloves in my truck) I reached over her and popped the latch on her seatbelt. It snapped back into place and nearly gave me a good whack on its way.

As I slipped an arm, my right, behind her back her eyes flew open and she moaned much more loudly than before.

She looked around for a moment before seeing me.

“Oh, thank God,” she said. “Thank God.”

“You’re hurt pretty bad,” I said, not knowing if she really was or not. “I’m gonna try to get you over to my truck so we can go to the hospital, okay?”

“If I’m hurt are you sure that you should move me?” she asked. “What if I have internal injuries?”

“I can’t leave you here and I can’t call an ambulance because I don’t have a cell phone,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t think of her own cell phone.

“What about my cell phone?” she asked. “It’s in my purse,” she said and motioned one arm toward the bag still on the back seat.

“Let me check,” I said, removing my own arm from her back and noticing the way she winced when I did, also noticing the way she didn’t moan this time. She was already getting control of herself.

I used my sleeve to open the back door and pawed through her purse until I found her phone.

“I always have a good signal through here,” she said from the front seat.

As I looked at the phone I saw that she was right. Full reception.

I made as if to turn toward her with the phone and dropped it to the ground where I heard the casing crack.

“Oh, shit,” I said. “I dropped it.”

“Dropped it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “I couldn’t even tell if there was a signal or not,” I lied.

“Are you sure it won’t work?” she asked. “I drop it all the time.”

Not intentionally, I thought.

I picked it up at looked at the screen. Satisfied that it was indeed broken I handed it to her.

“Damn,” she said to herself. Then to me she said, “I think that my leg’s broken. Are you sure that you can lift me into your truck?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “No problem at all.”

“The I guess I’m all yours,” she said, trying to smile but not succeeding very well.

I thought about taking her to the hospital but then I thought of Yvonne’s eyes at the moment of her death, then wondered if Annette’s would look the same. I decided that Annette would end up the same way as Yvonne; at the bottom of a deep, unmarked grave in the woods.

I lifter her from the car and carried her to the passenger’s side of my truck where Yvonne had been seven months before. I lowered her in the seat then closed the door.

Through the open window I said, “Let me just grab your purse, you’ll need it at the hospital.”

“Okay,” she said, seeming to slip back towards unconsciousness. It was odd, she had just been wide awake and she was already going back out. Maybe it was adrenaline or something.

I trotted back to her bar and grabber her purse from the back seat. Then I brushed over all of the foot tracks that I had made on my way up and back down the slope to the woods.

I got into the truck and took off up the road after laying her purse on the bench seat between us.

I reached under my seat and brought out something I had stolen from the lab where I worked. A bottle of Ether. I pulled my handkerchief from my front pocket, steered with my elbows and drenched the handkerchief with the liquid from the bottle. I held my breath the whole time. It wouldn’t do for me to end up on the side of the road like Annette had. There’s no telling what kind of psycho could come along. I capped the bottle and slid it under the front seat again. I reached over to where Annette was out and held the rag over her mouth and nose for a full thirty seconds before pulling it away. There was no way to tell if she was farther out than she had been before but I hoped she would be.

I followed the speed limit the rest of the way home. The last thing that I needed was to blow this by some state trooped sticking his nose in my truck and seeing an unconscious old woman in the passenger’s seat.

I got home uneventfully. I was really starting to think that all of the worrying that I had done about getting caught had been for nothing. Both times it had been as if God himself had given me a chance to take theses women at a time when no one else was around. But I guess that kidnapping and killing women isn’t really the kind of thing that god helps you out with after all. Maybe my help was coming from the other direction. Either way, my luck kept holding out. I’d never really had much use for organized religion anyway.

After checking to make sure that no one was coming from either direction I opened my door and got out. I walked around to her side of the truck and opened the door. She slid my way a little as the door opened and I stuck my arms under her so that she wouldn’t fall out and hit the ground.

I had been keeping my cellar door unlocked because I never knew when I would be needing quick access to the cellar. Now my foresight was paying off. I used the toe of my running shoe to open the door just as I had with Yvonne. Once again I entered the darkness carrying an unconscious body.

When I came back out of the basement three hours later I was surprisingly getting sleepy. I had read that killers stay pumped up for hours after they kill because of the high amounts of adrenaline that the brain dumps into the body. Maybe I wasn’t getting as excited as I should be or something.

Annette Young never woke back up after I gave her the dose of Ether in the truck. I’m sure that for her that’s the best. When I got her down there I put her in the same place that I put Yvonne before her, and where I planned to put several more people after her. I took off her clothes and used a number of tools that I had in the cellar to stab her after carefully laying a plastic drop cloth over the immediate area.

This time I was more careful to try and remember everything that I did to her. I wanted to be able to remember all of the details later on. All I could really carry with me from Yvonne was the look of her eyes as she died. With Annette I could remember almost every detail down to where I stabbed her and with what kind of screwdriver, flat or phillips. It was exactly forty seven stab wounds with each of the tools. At first I thought that the blood was going to splatter all over the cellar. To my delight there wasn’t a single drop within a foot of the edge of the drop cloth.

When I was finished I rolled Annette’s body into the plastic and stapled the ends together. I waited until after one a.m. to mover her. I thought about taking her and burying her next to Yvonne but that just wouldn’t do. Two bodies buried in that close of a proximity would leave no doubt to even the dumbest cop that they were probably victims of the same murderer. I put her in my truck and drove down the road until I had circled the woods that border my property. That was still too close for me.

Finally I decided that Annette would like to go for a swim. There was a reservoir about ten miles away from where I had taken her. I used back roads until I got there and then had to cross back onto the main road for a scary two mile stretch where I felt exposed beyond description. I turned from the main road onto the road that led up to the reservoir. After about a quarter of a mile in there was steel cable strung across the access road with a dangling sign prohibiting trespassing. I stepped over it, carrying Annette thrown over my shoulder. It really is amazing how much heavier a dead body is than a live one. When I had carried Annette into the cellar she had seemed to weight no more than a bundle of newspaper. Now I could feel the muscles in my side tightening to try to balance her added weight.

I felt naked because I had to leave my truck behind where anyone might find it. But I knew that if I did what I was there to do in a timely manner then there would be a much lower risk of someone finding my truck and wondering what it was doing there in the middle of the night. I made myself speed up until I got to the reservoir.

Once I got there I made quick work of throwing her body into the water. I could see through the thin plastic that her eyes were still closed when I threw her over the side. Too bad, I would have liked to have seen her look one last time. But then again, we can’t always have what we want, now can we?

Work day went well the rest of the week. I decided that it would be prudent to pick up stake and move to another part of the country so I could get a wider sample to chose from.


© Copyright 2020 robertmassengill. All rights reserved.

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