Along came Spencer

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
"When I saw the title of the short story, I was expecting another soppy, love ridden story, but I was proved wrong."
-Anonymous

"I fell in love with the feelings, and the horror of these crimes in such graphic detail made me feel sorrow when Ann died."
-Anonymous

"Spencer will be back, I can tell"
-Anonymous

"Not the best, there wasn't enough detail."
-Anonymous

Intuitive Spencer was influenced by crime books read by me

Submitted: February 25, 2016

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Submitted: February 25, 2016

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Chapter 1: Spencer
Spencer looked down and glanced at what he had become. He was an intuitive, handsome and kind Author from Europe, but that's not what he gave off. He held the weathered knife between his fingers, looking at the mess he had caused. Three people. He would never get away with this, he'd not only ruined a life, but ended one too. He saw something in the distance, or rather.. someone. The figure was small, perky and pretty. The figure of a woman, and a woman who had seen the atrocity he had caused. She walked closer, as Spencer, the panicky painter, was worried about what was to come. Was she a police officer, or just another woman? He knew what he had to do. He stepped closer, holding his blade with two fingers, while wishing this would stop with his others. She was near, and he caught a glance of her real look, her beauty and all that he could see, was the beauty of his next victim. She stopped and called out
"I know what you but that's not why I'm here"
Spencer smiled. "Then why are you here?"
"My name is Ann. Ann Dawkins. I'm here for love."
Spencer dropped his hands to his sides.
"I can't give you love."
Ann hesitated.
"Cut." 
Everything stopped, Ann frowned
"What's my line?"
Spencer sighed, he wondered if she would ever know how much he truly loved her.
"This film is never going to release if you can't remember your lines, Ann." shouted Richard.
Spencer interjected.
"Richard. She's trying her best, you know. Stop putting her down and do your job better."
"Everyone take the rest of the day off, Spencer. My office, now." Richard exclaimed.
Ann walked up to Spencer, smiling.
"Thanks, Spencer." She grinned and kissed his cheek.
Ann walked off, into the distance

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Anything else.
Spencer entered Richard's office, knowing this wouldn't be going down well. Richard frowned upon him and Spencer knew what was coming, but he was ready.
"No one has ever stood up to me like that before, I can see you like her and I can't have you disrespecting me because of it. I want you to take a few days off, while we film the scenes you're not in. Come back when you're a little more respectful."
Spencer hesitated and then replied:
"Fine."
He walked out, only to find Ann outside waiting for him.
"What happened?"
"He temporarily suspended me." Spencer replied.
"You stood up for a co-worker, something not many people do."
"I understand that, but I feel like it's more than that, I think he feels something... deep down."
Spencer said goodbye and slowly walked off, walked home. He was always like this, emotional. He let love come before work, and it ruined him so many times, but he couldn't change the way he was, no matter how much he tried. He just wanted for forget this whole thing, to end the misery he felt inside of him. He knew what he had to do, and this time it wasn't being filmed...

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3: Death in Paradise
Spencer sat down, looking through the plans of what he was about to execute, or who he was going to execute. He had his place, he had his time, he had his date. But he had no weapon, no plan. He was going to wing it. He walked back to the office, knowing what he was going to have to do. His knife was in his bag, and he walked in...
Spencer Allistair looked at the Knife in his hands and felt angrier than ever
He walked over to the window and reflected on his deadly surroundings. He had always hated the tacky office with its wooden, wide-eyed desk. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel anger. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Richard Raymond. Richard was a zoik coward with muscular arms and a buff torso. Spencer gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. His friends began to see him as a misty, melodic murderer. Once, he had even made a cup of tea for Richard. But not even Richard was prepared for what Spencer had in store today. The Hail pounded like never before, making Spencer's killer instincts shine through. As Spencer stepped outside and Richard came closer, he could see the rich smile on his face. "I am here because I want Respect," Richard bellowed, in a Scruffy tone. He slammed his fist against Spencer's chest, with the force of a nuke. "I fucking hate you, Spencer." Spencer looked back, even more angry and still holding the soon to be bloody knife. "Richard, I'm going to kill you," he replied. They looked at each other with revengeful feelings, like two rabid dogs with the anger built inside, like a funeral of an unloved person. Suddenly, Richard lunged forward and tried to punch Spencer in the face. Quickly, Spencer swung the knife and brought it down on Richard's skull. Richard's arms trembled and his torso wobbled. He looked remorseful into Spencer's eyes, his body raw like a fish out of water. He let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Richard Raymond was dead. Spencer Allistair went back inside and made himself a nice cup of tea, knowing his job was done.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4: DCI Randall
A tall, muscular man walked into the office, Spencer shaken up and scared. 
"Mangled hands have been turning up all over Europe and the inhabitants are scared. Ten murders in ten weeks, all committed with a knife, and still nobody has a clue who the cowardly killer is." DCI Randall exclaimed, he didn't know it yet but he was the only one who Spencer Allistair. When he set eyes upon his best friend, Spencer, DCI Randall found himself thrown into the centre of the investigation, knowing full well he could have been guilty. His only clue was a bloody lamp and a knife, wielded by Spencer's hand. Could Randall help Spencer overcome his killer addiction and find the answers before the greedy killer and his deadly knife striked again? Spencer looked into the eyes of DCI Randall and shouted
"I tried to save him! There was a man, with this knife, he ran in here and attacked him. I tried to stop him. I tried..." Randall jumped to his friends side and comforted him,
"I'm alone, don't worry. I know this wasn't you. You need to keep calm"
Spencer smiled a deadly grin
"You were my best friend in the whole world, I only wish I didn't have to do this."
Randall went for his gun, but the knife came down with a force of lightning, in the empty office, in the empty movie set. Spencer stood up, wiping the blood of his second victim from his clothes, knowing that slowly, he would give in to the pressure and do the thing he least wanted to do. He knew that the time was drawing nearer, the time that Ann would find out, and she would become just another flopping body in the centre of the spotlight, knowing that she would one day become his victim...

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5: The love of death
Spencer Allistair was on a date with Ann again. Ann was a lovely carer with a beautiful torso and perfect neck. Spencer walked over to the lake and reflected on the old surroundings. He had always loved the beautiful river with its tasteless, green trees. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel sad and alone.
Then he frowned
"Ann I have something to tell you, I killed the detective and Richard."
Spencer gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a tall, optimistic, wine drinker with a lately scary torso and flat, obsolete body. His friends saw him as a kind, gentle man, though Ann now saw him as a masked murderer, and one who she wanted nothing to do with. Once, he had even helped shy Ann Dawkins with her boss' large ego. The thunder roared like a lion in the Summer, making Spencer even more nervous. Spencer grabbed his already bloody knife that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers. As Spencer stepped towards Ann, she became the face of nervousness, he could see the tense glint in her eye. "I am here because I want love," Ann bellowed, "Not death." Spencer looked back, even more in love and still massaging the bloody knife. "Ann, I have an addiction to murder," he replied. They looked at each other with damaged feelings, Suddenly, Ann moved forward and kissed Spencer, she held him, softly in her arms. Unwillingly, Spencer raptured the knife as it impaled her soft, tender neck. Ann's lust turned to sorrow, as she hit the floor, she was smiling, almost happy with how her life was about to end. Then she let out a moan and collapsed onto the ground. Her last breath was breathed. Spencer had no where to go. Spencer looked around and to his surprise saw the masses of snipers pointing at his head. He placed the knife on the floor. A shout was heard in the distance
"Take Aim... Fire."
Was this finally the end of Spencer Allistair's rampage...?


© Copyright 2018 Andy Blewett. All rights reserved.

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