first story "no10"

stol3n_lif3

No.10

The rain beats heavily off the window-screen of your new BMW Boxer. The headlights bounce playfully off the barriers on the roadside. You stare blindly through the rain washed window as each curve and junction pops up in front. You look at your watch 11:15 pm, seventeen hours awake and the tiredness is slowly taking its toll.

"Why did I say that I’d be the one to take on this project?" you ask yourself. "I would have been better off in Mortify Corporation back home. At least that was local and much easier that this ****."

Memories of the past few years’ blast briefly through your mind, when someone had an internal profile lockout on the server, or the mainframe decided to kick the bucket. Those were the days of being noticed...not like this new job. All I do all day is scan the profiles and logins, verify all the servers are running on all cylinders and make sure the canteen server is always up to code. I spent 5 hours fixing some idiots laptop today only to figure out he had broken the shield off his floppy and left it inside the drive bay. Damn no-brainers high powered dicks, the sell the latest models with Re-Write able software and Business managements software...but half of the morons can't even use the blasted things.
In the distance you notice a small dingy roadside motel with a sign flashing "VACANCY!".

"Suppose it's better than nothing". You grumble as you rub your eyes and pull into the parking lot.

You take out the keys; grab your jacket and step out of the car....
The foyer of the motel was a mess of grime and grease. Rat droppings littered the floor and a fat bald guy sat behind a desk watching TV.

“I notice you have a vacancy. Can I have a room…”
“Sorry bud…that signs broken…keeps flickering that we have a vacancy,” grunts the landlord.

I walked out and felt the harsh wind whip off my face.
“You need a room.” a voice called out from behind me. I turned my head and saw a well built teenager walking towards me with a rucksack on his back. His wavy black hair wafted over his eyes and his ripped denim jeans gave his a rustic look.
“Yeah” I answered, “know anywhere local”
“About 10 mile up the road…a small B&B, it’s cheap but it’ll do”
WE jump into my car and drive off down the road. I switch on the radio and listen to the news.

'.. The citywide manhunt is still ongoing as local authorities and other policing forces are still investigating the roadside murders. The suspect is still at large and police are looking for anyone with any information they might have little or not.
He has been described as tall and thin with a white complexion, long black hair just above his eyes, a nose ring and his tongue pierced. If you see anyone of this description please call the local authorities… and now back to our scheduled broadcast.”

“Jesus they still haven’t caught that guy, he’s good” he giggled
“Why do you admire him or something.” I asked
He smiled “he has the whole country in terror, he’s like a god and nobody knows what he’s really like.”
“Ok so, hey I never got you’re name…”
“Cayton” he answered “ok so Cayton, if he’s so great, when will he mess up?”
Cayton thought for a moment
“Maybe he won't or if he did it would probably be just to say "hey I’m not perfect" or something like that.”
“Suppose, but it don’t mean he’s some kind of god or something. He’s killed what 9 people so far, carved the number into their foreheads just like branding animals. All victims were killed in different ways, maybe he has some sort of problem that can’t be fixed.”
“Or maybe he just likes it…maybe carving the number into their foreheads was a way of letting us know that there will be more, lots, more bodies to come…” Cayton scoffed

We drove on for a while quietly, listening to the radio. I watched as Cayton held onto his rucksack tightly and watched my every move.
“You know I do resemble him a little, description wise I mean”
“How?” I asked
“I’ve got black hair just over my eyes – just like him, I’ve hiked among most of the areas that he’s murdered people, I’ve been picked up and questioned by the police loads of times just because I resemble him. Feels good, having people scared of you that way…give’s you a bit of dominant power before people know who you are”
“I suppose, but doesn’t that make you the killer then”
“Maybe…or maybe not, wonder what it would be like to kill someone…you know watching the fear in their eyes as they watch you tear them limb from limb like that guy in Ohio. Or strangle you with you own boot laces like that woman in Chicago.”
“But he’s probably not a nice guy, maybe he’s had something happen to him that he can’t fix and not thinks that all of these people he’s killing are the person that did the wrong to him.”
“Maybe.” He drifted away in thought as I queried him on his ramblings.
“He’s killed children as well”
“Maybe that was a mistake, or maybe he did that just to say hey I don’t care who I kill, get in my way and you’re dead meat pal”
“I don’t know, killing someone takes a lot of courage I think, maybe it was an accident that he killed a child.”

I looked in the rear view mirror and saw the distant light of the Motel fade away.
I picked up speed and hit about 70 on the open highway. Nothing as far as the eye could see. The rain had died off and the sunset had begun to glow ahead of us.

“What would you do if you met him..” I asked
“Don’t know...Probably be nice to him, not try and get on his bad side, in-case he exploded and killed me.”
“I see…”
“Imagine I was the killer, how would you react if you knew” he turned in his seat and watched for a reply.
“I’d be very polite and not query or probe him too much, try and not get on his nerves and wonder why he does what he does.”
He smiled “good answer…”
“But what if I was the killer”
Cayton barked back “you couldn't be…you don’t look the type”
I laughed “why not”
“He’s sophisticated, a killer, single minded and only out for one person…himself.”

He relaxed in his seat and flexed his arms behind his head.

“I think I would be more of a suitable candidate, I have the look, the courage and the reasonable IQ to get away with it.”
“You do…I’m impressed”
“You are…” Cayton grinned, “I’m flattered”
A flash of steel at the corner of my eye caught my attention.
“What are you doing?" I shouted
“Its my pen-knife, was just cleaning my nails.”
He held a bright shiny stainless steel flick knife with an eagle on the handle.
“Can I see It..” “Sure” he handed me the knife.
“It's nice, very nice. Nice and light, pretty sharp too I’ll bet.”
“Yep it is” Cayton smiled
I held the knife in my right hand and slowed the car off to the road slightly
“You know Cayton I could be the killer too”
“No, you haven’t got black hair like me, you’re hair is blond and too short.”
“But I could have dyed it and cut it”
“Hmmm... I Suppose..... hey, are we slowing down”

I smiled at Cayton

“I’ve been looking for you for quite a while Cayton, I heard you looked like me and wanted to try and outlive me. Now I’ve got you…there’s nothing more left to do.”
Cayton stammered and reached for the handle of the door.
“What's the hurry Cayton.. We've got so much to catch up on, you want to really know me…we’ve got all the time in the world”.
Cayton began to sob quietly.
“I was going to stop killing, but you’ve given me a reason to continue… And you will be number 10….

He who hesitates...is lost

Plastic Scouser

I think it has the makings of a good short story but just have a few comments;

1. It changes from 'you' at the beginning to 'I' later on, and it's usual practice to stick to one point of view or else things get confusing.

2. I got a bit lost what with all the talking near the end - wasn't sure who was saying which bit! Maybe you could expand on the description in between the lines of dialogue to break things up a bit, or describe what happens with less talking. Just a thought.

3. Finally, it seems a little rushed near the end, especially after having set the scene with a good amount of description at the beginning.

Hope that's constructive!