Killer of the night

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
A silent deadly killer, who waits, watches and goes in for the kill. Will Aylar Burke be able to escape from his clutches or will the ticking time bomb go off and make her stare death in the eye?

Submitted: September 04, 2012

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Submitted: September 04, 2012



Standing in my third story apartment, windows open with the cool autumn breeze flowing swifly around me. The bite of that chill around my bare body, arms limp and aimlessly just hanging by my side, my gaze intent on just one thing that I could see just nearing me from around 100 yards on the opposite side of the pathway. Her tall but slender frame and her size six figure made her just too irresistable. Often spending my nights in this same position as I watched her walk home from her night shift. She would pass my window every night at exactly 10:08pm. However, today she was late. It was now nearing 10:35pm and I couldnt help but wonder where she had been or what she had been doing. I see her look up at me, her gaze as if it is going straight through me. As if she had seen a ghost. She was a pale young girl with the brightest blue eyes and the darkest hair with curls that just seemed to bounce as she steadily walked across the road. Although she was only 19, she was a lot more mature for her age. She worked long shifts waitressing at forlini's italian restaurant. It's one of the most popular restaurants in Chinatown so when I go in there to get a closer look, I can safely dissapear in the the crowds and keep an eye on my next target.

'Do you want a lift to work today honey?'. The most familiar voice to Aylar was her mothers. Although she did not get along much with her family, her mother was the one person Aylar could rely on with just about anything. However, Aylar knew her mom didn't have much time left as she has been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer just a few months before Aylar's 19th birthday. 'No it's O.K Mom, it only takes me a few mintes to walk and you need to rest!'. Aylar always kept a smile on her face no matter how hard the situation got because she didnt wan't her Mom to see her upset. 'O.K sweetie, i will pick you up at 10pm because there are heavy rain storms coming in tonight' replied Aylars mother with a sense of worry yet a sense of chirpiness. Aylar did not reply but instead gave her Mom a kiss goodbye and set out the door for her 10 hour shift ahead.

'Hey Aylar, how is your mother today?'. Mr Steffano was the owner of forlini's and also a very good family friend of Aylar and her mother. He had a young daughter and a wife called Rochelle. Rochelle was a chef at the restaurant but often had days off as she too was suffering from a brain tumor. Mr steffano and myself often sat down for a quiet chat after I finished work so we could talk about our feelings. 'Hi Roman, She's very tired today so she's is at home for the day with her carer. How is Rochelle today?'. 'She is having one of her better days, she is out back in the kitchen if you want to go and say hello!'. With that, I walked through the large stainless steel doors to go and say hello. But in that sudden instant I looked down and saw blood. Rochelle Steffano was laying on the cold worn out concrete floor with a large amount of blood surrounding her pale skin. I knew instantly she was no longer alive however i still ran to her side screaming for help.

Finally, I had her close enough. I could smell the mix of her fear and her sweet scented perfume. I smell rose from her clothes as i stood above her gently stroking her hair off of her forehead. She looked so peaceful just laying sprawled out of the matress in the middle of my apartment. This was the moment I have awaited for a very long time. Out of all of my targets this is my biggest achievment. This is the golden catch. This is what every other man like me dreams of getting their hands into. I have had my eye on Aylar ever since her dad vanished two and a half years ago. I remember that day well, it was April 17th 2008 when the newspaper dropped through my letter box. In big black bold letters was those three sacred words that are like music to my ears. 'CHINATOWN FATHER MISSING'Accompanying the headline was the usual three strips of writing in plain black ink pleading with the public to get in touch if anyone knows anything that may help further investigation. The one thing on that page that caught my eye was the father's daughter. The girl who was now laying completely still infront of me. Aylar Burke.

A large crowd had drawn around the front of the building where Mrs. Steffano lay dead on the concrete floor. 'A single bullet wound to the chest, piercing the left verticle, causing mass internal bleeding. almost certainly the cause of death'. Dr. Louisa Pascal was often known for her straight forward conclusions. Within an instant of looking at a body she could almost certainly identify the cause of death. Very few times had she been incorrect following an autopsy. 'So, a busy restaurant like this with around 40 to 50 people and no one hears a gun shot or any screaming until Aylar enters the kitchen. Mr. Steffano goes to see what all the comotion is about and all of a sudden Aylar is no where to be seen?'. Detective Alice Moorecomb was the lead investigator in the chinatown homicide unit and was recently partnered with newbie detective Jack Logan. 'We need CCTV footage of the back alley and the front entrance. We need to find out who came in the front door and didnt leave through the front door. Logan send out a search for Aylar Burke'. Detective Pascal was a confident detective and was otherwise known as the tough detective depsite being female. 

I can hear footsteps but I can't see anything. How did i get here? I cant remember anything after going into the kitchen at work. Whats happening?. 'Hello Aylar, Did you have a nice sleep?'. It was an unfamiliar voice. A male voice that sounded southers. Texas maybe?. 'Who are you and where am I?'. said Aylar sternly. 'Well Aylar, I am your worst enemy and it doesnt matter where you are as no one will know that you're here with me'. Struggling I tried to kick and squirm my way up to a standing postion but my hands and feet were bonded too tightly together with duct tape. 'Let me go you evil bastard, why do you want me? i've done nothing wrong!'. Again, I tried squirming my way out but i was just becomg more and more tired from the struggle. i felt a glass pressed against my lips and was then told to drink. Next came a fork that was prodded into my lower lip as a sign that I was being given food. Reluctantly I opened my mouth and began to chew. I recognised the taste very well. A fried chicken and fries ready meal from C Mart not far from down the road. It was a meal i had eaten many times in the past two years during the time my mother has been in and out of hospital. Although it was a meal i usually enjoyed, at this particular time it was a nightmare meal. One that with every chew i was reluctant to swallow. Relucatant to give in to the person who was feeding me whilst holding me hostage.

She acknowladges where I am standing, Can sense my every move around her and hear my every footstep on these creaky worn out floor boards. She doesn't know who I am though. She doesn't hear the familiarity in my voice even though i speak to her most days when ordering my food. She can't yet see me. Her eyes covered too with duct tape. Oh the satisfaction that will bring when the time comes to rip the tapr clean off her face. making her wince in pain and beg me to stop the torture. By then it will be too late. The process of her final hours. The final screams which no one but myself will hear. Just the thought of slicing through her smooth skin to reveal that arterial spray makes my blood rush and my palms warm with sweat. That final gasp of air she desperately tries to breathe in will be that ultimate pleasure that i have strived to achieve for many years now. That warm gush of blood against my skin. I can clean it off from my body to hide from the naked eye, but i know that feel of blood will always be touching my skin. The memory will always be there of that deep incision.

'Right, we have gone through all the CCTV footage of the front door and everyone that entered through the front also exited the front. Which means the only way Aylar left was through the back door which has no CCTV'. Detective Logan was about to proceed with his findings when a call came through. Detective moorcombe, we need you and Logan down here ASAP. Got a call from a Landlord claiming a girl being dragged into an apartment screaming".With that, Moorcombe and Logan set off in the police cruiser to the apartment where Mr. Felidetchi was standing outside the apartment ready to open the door. With police back up he put the key into the door and pushed the door open. In seconds 6 officers where searching the entire apartment in search for Aylar Burke. The apartment was empty. All that was left was the single matress in the middle of the floor with the empty cup and left over scraps of southern fried chicken that Aylar could not force herself to eat no matter how hungry she was at the time. Whilst officers searched the perimeter of the building, Detective Moorcombe took a closer look at the matress. There was clearly seamen specimens on the matress and long dark hairs at the other end of the matress. 'Goddammit, were too late, he's taken her some place else and we are running out of time!'. By this time, Moorcombe was becoming angry and agitated. She wanted to find this bastard before it was too late for Aylar.

With a quick and steady kick, the door flies open. I hear a voice call out and ask if it was Aylar. I nudged her in the back to make her respond appropriately to her mother or she knew the consequences would be much worse. I guided her forward into her bedroom and pushed her onto her bed. I then left the room, propping a chair up against the handle so i knew she couldnt escape. I creeped into her mothers room and gently eased a needle into her wrist. slowly releasing many drugs into her which would leave her unconscious and give me enough time to complete my task. As i slipped out of her mothers room i quietly entered her room again. I unzipped my trousers and slowly started to press my body against her. Her screams went unheard as I satified my needs yet again. I sensed that time was running out though so i had to act fast. i pulled the scalpal out from my back pocket and held it up against her cheek. She shivered, not due to being cold, but grimacing the fact that within a few seconds her blood would be splattered against the pale yellow walls of her bedroom. I pressed the blade firmly against her neck to make a slight cut. Just to give me that smell of blood. Make me hungry for more. Time is going against me now and i must act now or it will be over. I know THEY are on their way, i can sense it.

'BOSTON HOMICIDE! Drop the scalpel now and put your hands behind your head and drop to your knees!' These words were a relief to Aylar's ears and she lay there sobbing as she came within inches of her death. Detective Moorcombe cut the tape from her wrists and feet which was a relief to Aylar. Meanwhile Detective Logan was busy restraining Mr Steffano with handcuffs. However, It wasnt Roman Steffano they were restraining. It was his brother Lucio. He was the one that got Roman to hire Aylar, so he could watch her every movement until he pounced on his prey. He almost succeded had it not been for Aylar's nother pulling her emergency chord when she heard an unfamiliar voice. 

Later that year in December just a few days before the Christmas holidays, Aylar's mother passed away after her two year fight against cancer. Although it was difficult, Aylar lived on in memory of her mother. If it wasnt for Mrs. Burke, Aylar's memory would be nothing but a blood splatter up a wall.

© Copyright 2018 tashholt26. All rights reserved.

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