Title: Euphony
Disclaimer: I'm borrowing the characters, is that okay with you?
Author: Amara Tenoh (TofuDog)
Summary: Stewart Otis escapes the prison in Miami and heads to Las Vegas,
but he doesn't know what he has in store for him.
Note: I love the character Stewart and I just had to write a story about
him in Las Vegas.
Rating: PG-13 for Pedophiles, mild language, and other things you wouldn't
want a small child to read.
Stewart swayed his hand to the soft classical music in his jail cell. He was about to escape. He turned up the music to mask the sounds of his escape. He pulled up the toilet and peeled away the concrete lying around the base of the toilet. He struggled into the pipe. His thin body just fit. He slipped down the pipe and slid to the end of the pipe. He regurgitated when the smell got to him. "Oh, God." He whispered to himself. He wiggled out the end of the pipe. He could hear the music echoing own the pipe. He stood up in the waist high dung at the end of the pipe. He vomited again. He coughed and retched to get the smell out of his lungs. He slopped to the edge of the waste hole. When out of the range of the smell, he retched. He choked.
Finally, he resumed his trip away from the hell house. When on a major highway out of Miami, he stuck out his thumb. He waited for a while and sat down on the curb. A police car drove by and Stewart dove off the side of the road. He rolled down the hillside. When he gained conscience again after hitting his head, he sat up. "Dammit." He said. He slammed his hand on a rock. The rock cut his hand open and he dripped blood. He cursed again. Now, he was leaving a trail. After contemplating what to do, he ripped a shred of cloth off of the stolen clothes and wrapped it around his hand. He tied it snugly and started to trudge back up the hillside. He stuck out his thumb and some teenage girls stopped.
A redhead stuck her head out the window. "Hey, wanna ride? C'mon. Get in the back seat." She pointed to the back seat and tossed her hair.
Her blonde friend driving the car giggled. "Where you heading?" She said as they drove off.
Stewart thought for a second. He tossed cities around in his head. "Las Vegas." He said. He smiled. He knew he could get lost in the crowd of Sin City.
The girls in the front seat giggled. "We can take you as far as Arkansas. K?" The blonde one said.
Stewart thought that that would be great. "Sure." He muttered. "What are your names? How old are you? Tell me." Stewart said. He couldn't get too personal with the girls, but he couldn't let them get suspicious.
"I'm Ash and I'm 16. I just got my license. I'm going to visit my boyfriend." The blonde girl said. "I'm originally from Canada, but it was too cold."
"I'm Soy. That's short for Sonja. I'm 14. What's your name?" The red haired girl said. He flipped her hair. She looked back at the man in the back seat and smiled.
Stewart had to think for a moment. He couldn't tell them his real name. "Ronnie." Stewart lied. He smiled goofily at the girl. The girl gave him a funny look and turned back to the front of the car.
***
The girls stopped at a gas station outside of Little Rock. They filled up with gas. Sonja went to the bathroom. Stewart followed her. He went into the bathroom and looked under the stall.
"Ash, is that you? My stall is out of TP; can you get me some? C'mon." Soy nagged. Stewart went into the other stall and pulled off some toilet paper. He handed it under the stall. "Thanks." The toilet flushed and Soy came out of her stall. "Ronnie? What?" Soy questioned.
Stewart grabbed Soy and put his hand over her mouth. "Hush. Sweetie." He said. He pulled her out of the bathroom and into the woods. He laid her down and wrapped his hand around her throat. Soy gasped for air. She kicked him, so Stewart straddled her. He laid down on her. He felt a snap under him and he cried, "Damn!" He got off of the girl and lifted his hand from her throat. She was dead. He had cracked a rib and it punctured the heart. This was all too familiar. He cussed himself all the way back through the woods to another road. He had messed up. He just couldn't control himself. He cussed again as he stuck his thumb into the air and waggled it. After a while, a car stopped.
A man peeked his head out the window. "Where to? I'll go anywhere you go, dude." He said in a southern accent.
"Vegas." Stewart replied. He smiled his best smile to look friendly, but it came out weird.
The man took another look at him. He hesitated. "Mmm.okay. I'm game. Climb in." They drove off. They had small talk the whole way there. Stewart made up a lie about how he was trying to get to Vegas to get married. The driver soaked in every detail. He later testified to the police that the man was strange and had a thing for kids.
The driver dropped Stewart off at then strip. He waved goodbye to him. Stewart smiled. He was free and away from Horatio. He had not worries about being caught. He was a part of a large city, now. He could resume his life of murder. He strolled down the strip with his pockets in his hand. A man in a hurry with a silver case in his hand, bumped into Stewart. He was practically running down the strip. He stopped and turned around. "Oh, I'm sorry." He said. He tapped Stewart on the shoulder and hurried off. Little did Stewart know, that was Grissom, the supervisor of CSI. Grissom would be the man who would catch Stewart. But, Stewart did not know that. He went on walking, like he had no worries. He whistled as he walked.
To Be Continued.
Stewart swayed his hand to the soft classical music in his jail cell. He was about to escape. He turned up the music to mask the sounds of his escape. He pulled up the toilet and peeled away the concrete lying around the base of the toilet. He struggled into the pipe. His thin body just fit. He slipped down the pipe and slid to the end of the pipe. He regurgitated when the smell got to him. "Oh, God." He whispered to himself. He wiggled out the end of the pipe. He could hear the music echoing own the pipe. He stood up in the waist high dung at the end of the pipe. He vomited again. He coughed and retched to get the smell out of his lungs. He slopped to the edge of the waste hole. When out of the range of the smell, he retched. He choked.
Finally, he resumed his trip away from the hell house. When on a major highway out of Miami, he stuck out his thumb. He waited for a while and sat down on the curb. A police car drove by and Stewart dove off the side of the road. He rolled down the hillside. When he gained conscience again after hitting his head, he sat up. "Dammit." He said. He slammed his hand on a rock. The rock cut his hand open and he dripped blood. He cursed again. Now, he was leaving a trail. After contemplating what to do, he ripped a shred of cloth off of the stolen clothes and wrapped it around his hand. He tied it snugly and started to trudge back up the hillside. He stuck out his thumb and some teenage girls stopped.
A redhead stuck her head out the window. "Hey, wanna ride? C'mon. Get in the back seat." She pointed to the back seat and tossed her hair.
Her blonde friend driving the car giggled. "Where you heading?" She said as they drove off.
Stewart thought for a second. He tossed cities around in his head. "Las Vegas." He said. He smiled. He knew he could get lost in the crowd of Sin City.
The girls in the front seat giggled. "We can take you as far as Arkansas. K?" The blonde one said.
Stewart thought that that would be great. "Sure." He muttered. "What are your names? How old are you? Tell me." Stewart said. He couldn't get too personal with the girls, but he couldn't let them get suspicious.
"I'm Ash and I'm 16. I just got my license. I'm going to visit my boyfriend." The blonde girl said. "I'm originally from Canada, but it was too cold."
"I'm Soy. That's short for Sonja. I'm 14. What's your name?" The red haired girl said. He flipped her hair. She looked back at the man in the back seat and smiled.
Stewart had to think for a moment. He couldn't tell them his real name. "Ronnie." Stewart lied. He smiled goofily at the girl. The girl gave him a funny look and turned back to the front of the car.
***
The girls stopped at a gas station outside of Little Rock. They filled up with gas. Sonja went to the bathroom. Stewart followed her. He went into the bathroom and looked under the stall.
"Ash, is that you? My stall is out of TP; can you get me some? C'mon." Soy nagged. Stewart went into the other stall and pulled off some toilet paper. He handed it under the stall. "Thanks." The toilet flushed and Soy came out of her stall. "Ronnie? What?" Soy questioned.
Stewart grabbed Soy and put his hand over her mouth. "Hush. Sweetie." He said. He pulled her out of the bathroom and into the woods. He laid her down and wrapped his hand around her throat. Soy gasped for air. She kicked him, so Stewart straddled her. He laid down on her. He felt a snap under him and he cried, "Damn!" He got off of the girl and lifted his hand from her throat. She was dead. He had cracked a rib and it punctured the heart. This was all too familiar. He cussed himself all the way back through the woods to another road. He had messed up. He just couldn't control himself. He cussed again as he stuck his thumb into the air and waggled it. After a while, a car stopped.
A man peeked his head out the window. "Where to? I'll go anywhere you go, dude." He said in a southern accent.
"Vegas." Stewart replied. He smiled his best smile to look friendly, but it came out weird.
The man took another look at him. He hesitated. "Mmm.okay. I'm game. Climb in." They drove off. They had small talk the whole way there. Stewart made up a lie about how he was trying to get to Vegas to get married. The driver soaked in every detail. He later testified to the police that the man was strange and had a thing for kids.
The driver dropped Stewart off at then strip. He waved goodbye to him. Stewart smiled. He was free and away from Horatio. He had not worries about being caught. He was a part of a large city, now. He could resume his life of murder. He strolled down the strip with his pockets in his hand. A man in a hurry with a silver case in his hand, bumped into Stewart. He was practically running down the strip. He stopped and turned around. "Oh, I'm sorry." He said. He tapped Stewart on the shoulder and hurried off. Little did Stewart know, that was Grissom, the supervisor of CSI. Grissom would be the man who would catch Stewart. But, Stewart did not know that. He went on walking, like he had no worries. He whistled as he walked.
To Be Continued.