Disclaimer: This story was written purely for entertainment and is not for profit. It is not meant to trespass in any way on the holders of the rights to Starsky and Hutch.
Mahalo to all of the wonderful people in my life, who continue to encourage, support, and inspire me in my endeavor to write.
Many heartfelt thanks especially goes out to these special ladies:
Brook . . . mahalo girl, for getting me over the "humps" and for always inspiring me to move my lazy fingers; I don't know if I'd still be around if we didn't talk everyday,
Strut (my big sis) mahalo for being my 'ohana, for your insightful suggestions and sweet encouragements that continue to shape and mold me into the writer I want to become.
And to my sweet buddy Wuemsel, mahalo for being the best cheerleader around, you always know how to brighten my day with rainbows and sunflowers,
Starskysgal, mahalo for never failing to make me smile and for sharing your hammer,
And a big mahalo goes out to you Eli, for your unfailing belief and never-ending patience when it comes time to post on the beautiful "Ruminations" website you created for me.
You wonderful ladies make writing so much fun! I am truly blessed indeed.
Warning: "Episodes" might be considered a dark tale and contains some graphic scenes and foul language that may be offensive to some readers. This story also revolves around a paranormal/metaphysical genre; if this is not your cup of tea, then please refrain from sipping. I would hate to spoil someone's fun.
--oo Episodes oo-
By: Shawne 'til dawn
. . . PROLOGUE . . .
October . . .
She sat up abruptly on the lumpy and uncomfortable mattress, gasping, her small frame quivering in the darkness as she attempted to catch her breath. She tried to slow the rapid beating of her heart as she gathered her bearings; gradually remembering that she was in the cheap motel room she had found late last night as she had exited the interstate freeway. Although the motel looked run down and weather-beaten, its gaudy neon lights had boldly declared a vacancy and it had become a beacon to her weary soul. She rubbed the goose bumps from her thin arms and pushed her long, dark hair away from her damp face with shaky hands. Breathing hard, she closed her eyes and mentally forced herself to calm down.
She glanced at her small travel clock and saw that it was only 4:25 in the morning. She had been asleep a whole two hours and three minutes. The diminutive woman got out of bed and slowly padded to the window. She cautiously drew back the stained curtains to peek out at the quiet street, listening to the distant sound of the cars whizzing by on the interstate highway, her dark brown eyes darted about, ready to track any movement in the darkness below; the glare from the neon sign accentuating the hollows of her high cheekbones.
She closed her eyes and sighed softly, putting out her sensors, but could feel nothing that would jeopardize her safety. Even as a little girl, she always knew when danger was nearby; self-preservation always seemed to enhance her abilities somehow. She intuitively knew she was safe for now, but she didn't allow that knowledge to lull her into a false sense of security. He was out there . . . somewhere . . . and he was looking for her.
She turned away from the window hearing the soft swoosh of the dirty curtain fall back into place. Walking into the small bathroom she clicked on the yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling and turned to stare at herself in the mirror. She self-consciously tucked some strands of her long dark hair behind her ear. She looked like a mess. All those many months of running were starting to take its toll on her.
She turned off the light and walked the few steps back to the lumpy mattress only to frown at it with disdain. Just the thought of climbing back in there sent shivers up her spine. She didn't want to chance a sore back come morning, she didn't want to go back to sleep and she most definitely didn't want to dream again, for she always woke up violently like this when she dreamed about him.
Yet this time, the dream had taken a different turn from its usual horrific ending . . . and it scared her.
Closing her eyes wearily, she could still see them . . . those eyes . . . filled with horror and pain . . . eyes that were the color of the deep ocean. Mari quickly opened her large almond shaped eyes, her heart filled with despair. Whoever this curly haired man was, he was now somehow connected to this nightmare of hers . . . of that she was sure . . . and she knew without a doubt that she needed to find him and warn him about what was to come . . .
. . . CHAPTER 1 . . .
November . . .
It was chilly as she stood outside the "The Pits", a place she had seen only once. It seemed almost surreal somehow to be actually standing in front of something that she had only dreamed about. She pulled her worn sweater closer together as a gust of wind blew bits of street rubbish against the leg of her jeans. She looked down at the pieces of paper and watched as another gust of wind took them away. She sighed, feeling unsure of her decision to come here, but she wanted to check this place out and make sure that it truly existed.
"Well Mari, it's now or never . . ." she said softly to herself, adjusting the strap of her backpack upon her shoulders. Taking a deep breath to buff up her flagging courage, she walked to the door and entered.
She stood quietly to the side and looked across the brightly lit, smoked filled room of the crowded bar and grill. The room felt pleasantly warm after coming in from the brisk windy evening and she slowly took off her white sweater, gathering her long dark hair neatly away from her long, slim neck up into a ponytail. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the light, as they casually roamed around the room, but they were immediately drawn to the curly haired cop who sat huddled in a booth, in the back corner, across from a tall blond wearing a tan leather jacket.
She quickly looked around and spied a small, unoccupied table and an empty wooden seat by the side of the little hallway leading to the restrooms. Mari walked over to it and sat down, trying to remain inconspicuous as she curiously studied the brunet who suddenly laughed out loud at something his companion said. She watched as his familiar dark blue eyes twinkled mischievously, the grin that spread across of his face made him appear almost boyishly charming, although the woman intuitively knew that this was only one of the many facets that this ruggedly handsome detective possessed.
Mari had learned he was a police officer from one of the many recent dreams she had been having of him. She knew he carried a badge and a holstered gun concealed under the dark brown leather jacket that he wore. She also knew that the blond sitting across from him was his partner, though she had yet to see his face.
Mari watched as the cop in question took a quick sip of beer from his mug, returning the glass to the table, still grinning as he began to gesture with his hands, his mouth moving in response to something his partner had said. She saw the blond throw his head back, laughing; and she silently wondered what the fairer man looked like, as his back was turned towards her. Though she was clear across the room, it was obvious to her that these two men shared a very close and special bond.
She felt exhaustion creeping in, as she sat still and quiet in the warm room, listening to the buzz of conversations around her; the tinkling of glass, the occasional laughter and boisterous joviality on some of the nearby tables made her feel suddenly lonely and out of place. She was frightened too, but it was time; she could no longer run from what was inevitable.
He was here in Bay City . . . she could feel it as clearly as she had seen it. Her weary mind drifted back to the vision she had just a week ago. As in all of her visions, she could only see what was happening through the killer's eyes, could only see whatever he gazed upon during the time lapsed in her "episodes" as she called them.
Mari knew the killer had been on the I-5 heading down towards California for some time now . . . leaving a string of missing girls as he traveled from Canada, through Washington and Oregon . . . always able to get away before suspicions arose. All this time, she knew he was coming for her too . . . she was as certain of this, as the sun rising. Hadn't she awakened many times screaming from the images in her dreams . . . foreseeing her own death by this lunatic's hand?
For months now, she had been able to stay one step ahead of him, but somehow he always knew where she was . . . somehow they were "linked" and that thought frightened her immensely. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before she would become one of those girls he had slaughtered.
But this time, maybe the element of surprise would be on her side . . . he would never think that she would stop running, especially after seeing what he was capable of. She knew he fed on her fear. Over the past few years, she had witnessed the horrendous things he had done to the women who were stupid enough to get into his car. Apparently he had a face that ladies trusted, though she herself had never had the opportunity to see it.
She could feel her heart accelerating with fear. He was here . . . somewhere . . . in Bay City. She closed her eyes, remembering the sign from the freeway . . .
It was dark and drizzling. She could see the wipers moving back and forth against the windshield of his car, could hear him humming off-key to some song on the radio. She strained to catch a glimpse of his face, or eyes, through the rear view mirror; but his eyes never left the road and all she could see was the dark ribbon of highway through the never ending spattering of raindrops. Yet, in the darkness of the car she could almost 'feel' his thoughts.
She sensed that he was in a good mood, feeling proud of his despicable accomplishments, relishing the screams that he had played back over and over in his mind of the young red-head he had repeatedly raped. Seeing in his mind's eye, the terrified girl's tear-stained face, the horror in her beautiful green eyes, as she saw the large butcher knife that he held above her . . .
Abruptly, Mari could sense his thoughts shift away from the brutal murder he committed and she knew without a doubt that he was now thinking of her. She could feel his eyes squint and she "knew" that he was grinning in the dark interior of the car.
The man suddenly focused his attention back to the road, looking to the off ramp from the I-5 and she could see the sign hanging above: Bay City . . . 11 miles. Mari could feel him smiling as his thoughts returned to her; she could hear his voice whisper in her mind, "I see you Mari . . . I know you're there watching me . . . you can't hide and run forever."
She shivered, remembering his whispered taunting. He was right though; she couldn't run forever. She hadn't been able to save those girls, but maybe this time . . .
The young Asian woman bit her lip with trepidation, but she felt resolved in her decision. This time there would be no more running. It was time to be proactive . . .
No more cat and mouse games. Playing hide and seek was over . . .
Whatever was to happen, it would happen here in Bay City and somehow . . . somehow that curly haired detective would play a big part in all of it. She would do whatever it took to help the police catch this serial killer . . . maybe this time, they would listen to her.
Despite her resolve and her bravado, she shuddered in fear, as against her will, her mind drifted once again to his beautiful green-eyed victim. She felt suddenly nauseous, her eyes growing wide with horror as she remembered the young redhead sobbing and begging him to stop as he continued to ram the blade into her soft belly . . .
"Whoa . . . you okay girl? Hope it wasn't anythin' you ate here, and if it wuz, then I didn't cook it!"
She lifted startled almond shaped eyes to the tall, skinny man who stood above her, a towel thrown carelessly over his shoulder, his teeth flashing white against his dark complexion.
"I . . .oh I'm sorry . . . I must have been . . ."
"Zoning out . . . either that . . . or you saw a spook," Huggy grinned, admiring the features of the diminutive Asian girl who sat before him. "Man, by the look on your face, I thought you were gonna toss your cookies!"
The woman smiled, lowering her dark brown eyes from the perceptive gaze of the flamboyant black man. She pushed some loose strands of her hair behind her right ear and looked up at the smiling man. "Sorry . . . my father always said I have the most readable face . . ."
The dark man eyed the tiny woman as she smiled. Although there seemed to be an air of innocence about the young girl, Huggy could immediately sense something was wrong. His street smarts kicking in, intuitively knowing that the girl was in some kind trouble he asked, "Anything I can help you with?"
"Uh . . .yes there is . . . could you bring me a cup of coffee . . . please?" the young woman smiled hopefully, her dark, brown eyes shining in her heart-shaped face.
Huggy grinned, respecting the privacy the girl obviously wanted to keep. "Okay, okay I get it . . . no need to be so polite . . . ain't none of Huggy's business. I hear ya loud n'clear, so . . . one cup of coffee comin' right up."
The woman laughed softly when she saw the black man wink at her, and she watched as the tall, skinny man sauntered away from her small table. Mari sighed. Her father was right. Anyone could read whatever was on her face at any moment. She would have to be cautious of that . . . especially now with the killer so close.
She turned her attention to the back booth where the detectives sat. A big part of her wanted to run up to the brunet and pour out her fears, knowing he would want to protect her and keep her safe from the destiny she foresaw, and yet, would that be fair? To drag him into this now . . . when evil was close enough to reach out and touch her? She knew that being here was bringing the killer into the path of this man, but her dreams had told her that somehow their destinies lay entwined.
She pondered silently over that thought, rationalizing over and over again the reason why she should just pack up and leave. Yet, she was so tired . . . tired of running, tired of being alone with no one to talk to . . . tired of "knowing."
Somehow this curly haired man would play a part in all of this she was sure, but just what that part was, she had no clue. Maybe she could help him . . . save him somehow from the horror that awaited him, especially since she had finally found him before the killer did. All she knew for certain was that her dreams always came down to this man . . . his bright blue eyes filled with pain and horror . . .
Mari looked over to the booth in which he sat. Seeing him now, sitting in the corner, as big as life, just a stone's throw away, boggled her mind. When she came here to scope out the place, she had never thought he would be here tonight. Whatever the universe, or the powers that be wanted, it was certainly pushing it to happen . . . tonight.
She sighed again. Maybe she was pushing it. Maybe it was too soon. She knew she needed to warn him somehow, but how would she tell him without him thinking she was some kind of psychotic nut who needed to be locked up in one of those local mental institutions. God only knew, the people in her own neighborhood wanted to lock her up a long time ago.
'Excuse me sir, you don't know me, but I saw you in danger. You see, I have visions and dreams that usually come true, and somehow, you were being hurt by the killer who has been after me for some time now. I've decided to come here to warn you about it.'
The young woman snorted softly to herself, disgusted with the dialogue she made up silently in her head as she imagined herself walking up to the two detectives. "Just brilliant Mari!" she whispered sarcastically under her breath.
"Brilliance is the shine of your long, ebony hair" Huggy said, bowing gallantly over his arm as he placed the cup of coffee before her. "Your coffee is served Mari," he grinned at her startled look. "I heard ya," Huggy chuckled, "Not only do you zone out, but I see you talk to yourself too."
"Oh . . ." she said lamely, feeling the heat of embarrassment in her cream colored cheeks, "I really have to stop that!"
"Hey Hug . . . we've been waitin' all night for ya . . . I think Hutch might need another cold one," Starsky said, on his way to the restroom, "What's takin' ya so long? Hey . . ." the brunet smiled down at the quiet young woman whose eyes widened as they connected with the twinkling blue orbs from the man in her dreams.
Mari smiled hesitantly, not knowing what to say with the sudden appearance of the very same man whom she had been wrestling with herself all night to talk to.
"Hey . . . have I met you before?" Starsky asked, frowning slightly, but offering her his patented grin that lit up his whole face, "Huggy . . . shame on you . . . keeping this lovely lady all to yourself back here by the john. No wonder we couldn't find ya all night . . . and we thought it was just busy!" The brunet turned to Mari and winked playfully.
Huggy smiled down at the young woman, "May I introduce you to my loud friend . . . this . . . is David Michael Starsky, and this . . ." the tall skinny man said, extending his palm out towards the dark haired woman, "Brilliant girl . . . is Mari."
"Hi . . ." Mari stammered, blushing even more, "I was um . . . I . . .I was being sarcastic when I said that . . ." she finished lamely, feeling even more embarrassed under the scrutiny of those intense blue eyes.
"She was talkin' to herself and my sharp ears picked up on her conversation." Huggy grinned.
Mari softly smiled, shrugging lamely, "It's an annoying habit I have . . . one of many I'm afraid . . ."
"Yeah?" Starsky smiled, seeing her blush profusely, something about the shy Asian girl warmed his heart. "Then you should meet my friend Hutch . . . he has a lot of annoying habits too, just like you . . . he's in the corner over there," the brunet said, flicking his thumb over his shoulder, haphazardly pointing in the direction of his booth. Starsky reached his hand out to hers on the tabletop, and taking it firmly in his, he shook it, "Nice t'meet ya Mari."
She tried to prevent him from touching her, standing up in the process, her wooden chair falling to the ground, but time suddenly seemed to stop, the air became thick and heated, swirls of sharp colors whirled around . . . vibrant bloody reds and deathly black ensnared her, suffocating her senses until the background noises of "The Pits" faded into obscurity and the vision took hold.
The sound of her heartbeat vibrated in her ears, "He's there . . . I see him . . . he's there watching you in the night . . .when . . . when you tell the woman to leave," she panted, her dark eyes first seemed wild, then they grew distant and unaware, focused inward on something only she could see, her breathing rapid and shallow.
Starsky looked down at where their hands were joined. Her small hand had turned ice cold, her fingers digging into him with a deathly grip. The brunet quickly looked to the black proprietor who frowned and shrugged his bony shoulders.
A sharp gasp brought Starsky's attention back to the small Asian girl who continued to speak in a voice void of all feeling . . . like she was reciting the events of something from the daily newspaper.
"You try to help her. Y-you go back into the alley calling for her, but it's too late . . . he has her . . . he's dragged her by her long blond hair, his hand crushing her mouth to keep her screams silent. He knows . . . he knows . . . about you . . . about me . . ."
A cold finger of fear raced down the detective's spine. Hearing Mari's soft monotonous voice, the vacant look in the woman's eyes filled the brunet with sudden dread. "Hey . . . hey . . ." Starsky said, his voice growing louder as he shook the small woman, breaking her from that trancelike state, watching as Mari's eyes rolled back, "Hey . . . c'mon . . . you okay?"
Mari would have fallen to the floor had the detective not been holding her up. She snapped to, awareness flooding her being, seeing the curious onlookers staring at her, feeling self-consciously aware of the intensity of the moment . . . the concerned, bright blue gaze that never wavered as he stared down at her, the firm grasp of his hands holding her shoulders. She had to get out, embarrassment flooded her soul . . . she had called attention upon herself . . . she had to get out . . .now!
She breathed heavily, feeling dazed and disoriented, trying to stop the tremors that continued to wrack her small frame. The "episodes" were becoming more and more frequent, probably because her self-preservation ability was kicking in. He was close. He was here in the city and she needed to run . . . now!
"You okay . . . hmm?" Starsky asked gently, stooping to catch a glimpse of the woman's eyes as she bowed her head. She was very petite, the top of her head coming right above his chest, almost a foot shorter than his five feet, eleven inches. "Whatsamatter? What happened?" the brunet asked, letting the lady go when she started to struggle.
"I-I'm s-sorry . . ." Mari stammered, reaching to the back of the fallen chair to get her backpack and her sweater, "I . . . I have to go . . ." She nearly ran out of the bar and grill in her haste to leave.
Starsky and Huggy watched her go; the brunet turned to his long time friend, "What just happened?"
"Hey buddy . . . what's going on?" Hutch asked, "Thought you might've drowned in the toilet or something . . .who was that girl that just ran out of here?"
"Maaan, that was freeeeaky!" Huggy said, the whites showing in his wide eyes, as he stared at the door Mari disappeared through, "What the hell was that?"
"Shit, if I know . . ." Starsky said softly, reaching down to right the wooden chair. The brunet stood to look up at his tall blond friend.
Hutch grinned, "Well, from what I saw . . . either you're losing your touch buddy, or you offended her somehow . . . maybe something slipped out before you could get to the restroom in time huh?"
"Anyone ever tell ya that you're a bag of laughs Blondie?" Starsky said sardonically, his face breaking out in a grin as he heard Hutch laugh out loud.
"No Hutch . . . y'should'a heard what she was sayin'," Huggy said, his face dead serious, "It was like she was in some kind of trance or somethin'"
"Yeah?" Hutch said, looking to his partner, "What happened?"
"Ah nuthin'. . ." Starsky said, shrugging the whole episode off, "She probably freaked out, knowing I was gonna introduce her to you Blintz . . . being that you both have that annoying habit of talkin' to yourselves . . . oh sorry . . . my mistake buddy . . . you just talk to plants!"
"What?" Hutch frowned, looking over at Huggy, "Now what's he talking about?"
"Who knows . . . all I know is that she started off saying that someone was watching Starsky here and that one his many ladies was gonna be dragged off and abducted . . . right?" the black man looked at the brunet expectantly.
"Huggy . . . will ya just bring us more beer huh?" Starsky said, chucking the skinny man under his chin, "Look, I gotta go to the john . . . real bad!" the brunet said as he attempted to squeeze between his partner and Huggy.
"Wait a minute," Hutch said softly, gently grabbing his partner's arm as he tried to pass, his detective senses kicking into gear after listening to Huggy's ramblings, "Just who did she say was watching you Starsk?"
Starsky let out an exaggerated sigh, lifting his hands in exasperation, "I don't believe this . . . do you believe this?" he asked another customer who was coming back from the restroom. The customer stared at the dark haired detective for a minute then shrugged and went on. The brunet looked to his friend, "Hutch . . . can we just forget about this incident . . .huh?"
"Starsk . . . who knows . . . maybe this woman was right . . . maybe she can sense things
. . . see things that others can't . . ."
Starsky rolled his eyes, "Hutch . . . will you go sit down . . . I gotta pee . . ."
"Or fart . . . if I understood what Hutch was eluding to earlier . . ." Huggy said, throwing in his two cents, grinning from ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat.
"Funny . . . very funny Hug . . ." Starsky grouched good-naturedly.
Hutch picked up some napkins from the table and handed it his partner, "Here, take this
. . . maybe it'll help . . . you can breathe into it . . . "
The brunet looked at his friends incredulously, "You know somethin' . . . you two guys should be comedians . . . you're a barrel of laughs! Now can you get outta the way? I gotta go . . . now!"
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her fear, seeing her run out from a place called "The Pits" in his mind's eye. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel of his car as he pondered over the curly haired man who had recently been making guest appearances in his dreams. Who was this man and more importantly, what did he have to do with Mari?
He threw the car into gear and headed for the nearest phone booth at the corner from the cheap motel he was staying at in Bay City. Throwing the car into park, he walked swiftly to the phone booth and flipped through the phonebook within, running his fingers along the tiny letters until he found what he was looking for . . . "The Pits". He quickly scribbled down the address and the phone number of the place and hurried back to the warmth of his car.
He could feel his heart fill with rage at the possibility of Mari being involved with someone, angrily slamming the door of his car behind him. He breathed heavily through his nostrils, trying to calm himself down. Mari was HIS and nobody was gonna get in the way of that . . . not even a cop! He quickly released the parking brake and started in the direction of the address he held in his hand.
To be continued . . .