The Case of the Cheerleader Slasher

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
A suspenseful story about gruesome crimes. Someone is killing all of the cheerleaders in town!

Submitted: September 14, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 14, 2012




I spilled my coffee on my khaki uniform pants.


My phone then buzzes, i know it’s the police station calling about the new case.
I answer abruptly, still grimacing at the pain of the coffee explosion.

“Yes?” I say into the phone, a hint of annoyance escapes my lips.

“Officer Greene, you are needed at the Dogwood National Park near 5th Street. We have something that....might interest you...” Stacey, the overly flirty officer stated.

“Dogwood National Park,Near 5th Street. Got it! Anything else?”

Click! My phone beeps a notification that the conversation had ended. That bitch hung up on me! I groan shake my head and keep driving.

When I pull up to the crime scene, the first thing I see is a white, ‘57 Volkswagon bug. I notice there was a struggle near the passenger side door frame, and there was blood on the interior seats.

I  frown when i realize this was, indeed, a homicide and hope to God it isn’t the “Cheerleader Slasher”; those cases really shook me.

A short, chubby man waddles up to me.

“Mr. Dakota Greene?”


“Ah...ok..Does this remind you of anything?”

I exhale, not wanting to remember the horrid things of past murders I’ve encountered recently.

In the passenger side seat, was a slumped over body. A teenage boy, all of the recent murders have been young women.....

This throat has been slit, right handedly, similar to the girls lacerations. This is puzzling....

My phone rings....again. Great...I hate taking calls in the middle of an investigation.

I see the caller ID, it’s the station, so it’s a mandatory call.

“Hello?” I say quickly.

“Greene...Mr. and Mrs. Banks have came in, they think their daughter, Brittany, is missing...and she’s a cheerleader..Stacey adds the last statement in a hushed tone.

I frown as Stacey babbles on...

The chubby detective waddles back to me.
“Son, they’ve just identified this boy...Eric Reese; goes here at Dogwood High,” He says loudly...
Stacey stops...

In a panicking breath she says, “ Eric was Brittany’s boyfriend, they were last seen together..”
“Thank you Stacey. That will be all.”
I put my phone away.

“I’ll need to examine the body. Here; before autopsy.”  I walk away....


The boy looks, maybe..18, or 19..just a few years younger than me...

I gently sit him back in the seat. Nothing unusual besides the throat lacerations.. I bring up his hand to scrape fingernails. Something is in his hand...
I grab the object from his fingers and fold it up. A patch...only one police wear..
I hide the patch from sight other than mine....One of our deputies is most likely responsible...

I know what i have to do. So I quickly stride to Stacey’s very unorganized desk.

“Please give me the key to the officer’s lockers...” I say not wanting to make was an order.

“Anything for you, Greene.” She states with a dazzling smile and a sluttery wink.

I roll my eyes as she quickly digs in the drawer, for the key.

“Thank you.” I say and quickly dodge her skin as i accept the key; no way in hell was i gonna brush my hand against hers.

Coffee cups litter the locker room floor. My nose wrinkles at the stench of body odor and rotten donuts in the garbage; it doesn't mix well...These men need a lesson in personal hygiene..

I begin my search. Start with number one and work my way to forty-two...

Locker number two: clothes that look like they haven’t been washed in years. Disgusting..Locker twelve...candy wrappers and soda cans are piled high.

“What a lardass.” I say under my breath.

Locker seventeen, very clean...I search a little lock box; I find a small locket. Why does he have this? There are no pictures in it but still, I am curious...

I search the remainder of the locker, and I found our main suspect.

His patch matched perfectly with the uniform shirt. I quickly grab the shirt and the locket, close the locker door and quickly scan the locker chart.

I put my finger on the chart and scroll down to seventeen. To be honest, I’m scared to look because I don’t want any of our cops to be a suspect...ever..but if I’m going to save the girl, I have to do it..So i take a deep breath and let my eyes scan the name...”John Lewis” That bastard...

John Lewis is a well-known man in Dogwood. He is in his early forties, tall, and has the eyes of a hawk.

John and I have never looked eye-to-eye. We’ve had our arguments in the past, Now we simply ignore one another. But I’d never suspect him of murder!

Does he even know the dead boy? Why does he carry a pictureless locket in a lockbox? I’ve so many questions. Not enough answers...

The next day, I’m back at the station.

“Now, who the blazes was going threw my stuff?! Someone stole some things, including my shirt!” John Lewis shouts.

I stand to the side and lean against the wall, watching how this will unfold.

The other officers chuckle.

“Well, Hell, Lewis...looks like you have an admirer”

“He steal your panties, too?” Two young officers say with grins on their faces. All the men laugh...expect Lewis...

Lewis goes red...with anger. He lunges forward and grabs both comedians by the throats.
“I’m not joking! Do you see a smile on my face? No.. I suggest you boys do something smart and go before I get angry...”
He lets go of the cops and turns to me. Sweat glazed his skin, angry blood-shot  eyes...
“The hell you lookin’ at?”
I laugh and throw my hands up.

“Nothing..nothing at all...”
John Lewis storms away. I’m looking at something, O’l Johnny Boy...I”m lookin’ at a criminal.

I finally decided it’s time to dig up the dirt on John. So I pull up his criminal record...Hey, even if you’ve a cop you got one.

AGE: 43



So, John had a big anger problem. That wasn’t very difficult to tell...I wrote down Johns address and decide to dig deeper. This case had just unleashed wholly hell on our small Dogwood police station.

I walk from my office, eyes to the floor. I bump into something, I look up; Stacey had held up her arm.

“Okay, honey, why are ya acting so shady? Whatever it is, I want in,” She says, brushing my arm and biting her lower lip.

“Stacey, I’m just working. Now please let me-,” She interrupts me.

“I don’t care! Why don’t you tell me anything?”
“Cuz that’s my job,” I push past her and hustle to my car.

I slam the door and start the engine. Bang! Stacey is in the passenger side seat.

“You’ve not getting rid of me that easy. Now drive!”

I groan and pull out of the parking lot.

330..329..328..Ah, 327 Peach Blvd., I take in the small, cookie cutter house with it’s yellow siding and green shutters. It was a little feminine for a bachelor pad. I sigh and climb out of the car.

“Why are we at someones house, they’re obviously not home...and I know you don’t have a warrant.” Stacey annoyingly reminds me.

“Well I’m just going to walk around the house and see if there is any sign of a struggle.” I say glaring my eyes at her.

“Okay..I guess...but if the station asks I was never with you...” She says with a frown.

“Trust me I wish you weren’t.” I say under my breath as I walk away.

I scan the front of the house. Everything is prim, proper, and clean. No sign of a struggle. So I go around the back.There I find it.

There is a small, danky patio. Two lawn chairs and a barbeque pit sit on the side of it. On the other side is a back door...with blood and scrapes all over it...

I walk over to the door to examine the imperfections against the wooden surface,

“Mmmm....” Something makes a sound on the other side...Nobody is home. Lewis was at work; he lives alone; and he loathes animals.What made that noise?
“What are you doing and who is screaming!?” Stacey appears from the other side of the house.

I kick the door open out of instinct, of course. The concrete floor is cold, grey, and splattered with blood.

All in this room is a hospital bed..Something occupies it as well. What or who-ever it is, it’s covered with a white, blood stained sheet.

I slowly step toward the bed. The sheet moves slightly and it startles me. Where is Stacey? I hear a engine rev and tires squeal. I know she got scared and took my car to run...I am now arms length away from the bed.

I grab the sheet and pull quickly.
Brittany Banks eye’s widen. I swiftly untied the sopping, wet gag from her mouth. Her breathing quickens and she needs medical assistant ASAP!

“Joh-John did it.” She shudders breathlessly and soon passes out.


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