Call me paranoid, or even slightly psychotic in my obscure thought process, but I couldn't help but feel the urge to glance repeatedly over my shoulder as I paced quietly to my car. Trying to act nonchalantly toward the cold gaze I could feel searing through my torso was beginning to draw upon the last of my nerves, but something… It kept me from calling out, and trying to find out just who, or even for that matter what was being so observant toward my rather dull form. My paled hands quivered before they lithfully pressed against the icy handle of my beat up 1964 Chevy pickup truck, before a sigh of relief elapsed my lavish lips. The nearly subarctic wind that caressed my shoulders so delicately made me shiver, the faintness of its touch nearly rousing a scream from my throat before I fought the urge to let it rip so harshly from me. I'd never been so terrified in my life, though honestly I had no real, or rather logical excuse for it. I was on my regular night shift at the hospital, after saving countless lives without thinking of my own; but then again… That just might have been my fatal flaw, just as ever other heroin… My bright hazel hues narrowed slightly before I whipped the door to my truck open, slipping inside as though my very life depended on it. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack, as I drew in deep breaths, listening to the wind howl as though it were some sort of deranged animal stalking my every stalled movement.
Why I felt I was being watched, I couldn't even comprehend myself. Perhaps I'd let my imagination get the best of me after I'd read too many suspense novels waiting for calls to respond to, or watching the coroner's examination of the poor boy who'd been found near Las Vegas Blvd and Spring Mountain had roused an awareness of how sick our world truly was… That's right, you heard me right, a boy, maybe around the age of 15, or maybe the ripened age of 16… He'd been killed in the most ruthless, yet creative way I'd ever seen in all of my years as a paramedic. I honestly felt sorry for the one who phoned in his being there, and discovered the body though, it must have been horrific. His bronzed features had been shredded entirely, though his face was free of the dreaded marks, nothing could wash the engravings that had be so carefully crafted across his tainted flesh from my mind as I started my truck. It looked as though his killer had made everything an interesting game though while it had lasted by the marks, and how tattered the remains of his clothing where. His mortified expression, and his lifeless eyes only told me that there was no mercy though, and I couldn't help but shake my head at the thought before I forced my monster of a truck into reverse without thinking, hearing it's engine roar in an ear splitting retort to its sudden rushed movement. I'd seen so many dead bodies, of both the youthful and elderly and the nightmare's of their last moments no longer haunted my near sleepless nights, but this case in particular seemed to peck my interests.
I was almost fearful at the work I'd seen this evening, and the stench of death still held upon my hazed mind like a breath taking perfume. I was numb to it all, though I acted as a savior. A light smile crossed my lips nervously before I shook my head in protest to what thoughts had consumed me. "Snap out of it Evan…" I hissed to myself in an aggravated tone. It wasn't my job to worry about punishing whatever sick bastard had ever committed the crime, but the fact I was so obsessed over it roused my suspicions. Surely there'd be some sort of an advisory posted on the radios and news about such a killing, wouldn't there? Or was our department of foolish, and rather unprofessional police officers simply going to try and hide the fact that such a heinous and disturbing crime had even accorded in our sinful city of Las Vegas, Nevada? My hazel oculars feel upon the shadowed road before me before I blew my crimson hair out of my face dully. It seemed unnaturally dark tonight in my keen observations, but I would suppose everything would after a night of death daunting your every step. Leaning over before I shifted into first gear rather violently, I twisted the wheel in my hands, contorting it into the directions I wished rather briskly, flooring the gas pedal before the squeal of my tires echoed coarsely throughout the parking garage. Gritting my teeth lightly as I took a turn rather roughly, I lightly slid to the edge of my seat, taking off down the deserted streets cast in the bright neon glow of The Stripe.
Las Vegas, the city that never sleeps? I could easily agree with that sedimentary statement, though when it came to the jurisdictions that cast themselves upon our biggest tourist attraction, everything was grotesque, impure, and totally veil. The streets were tainted in such sin it was intoxicating, and the emphasis on sex, and prostitution was nearly embarrassing. How people could even stomach the idea of raising a family here riddled me to the highest extent, but it wasn't like my criticism was miraculously going to make it a 'divine city graced by God'. A few cars loitered motionlessly at the corner of Fremont St as I came upon it, only seeing the blackened silhouettes of the rather busty hookers hanging on the ledges of the few sports cars that had stopped. I rolled my eyes dully, trying not to think of the services there kind offered to the dirty men that fell victim to their lustful tones and completely silicone bodies. It was disappointing only because I knew that these men most have had beautiful wives at home, waiting hand and foot on them… How tragic things would be if they only discovered the truth that there 'perfect' husbands were out paying whores to carry out their profane and pornographic fantasies. I shook my head gingerly, my bright crimson locks crossing my ivory tones skin before I rocketed across the asphalt, continuing home so I could get some rest. It was hard to believe that it was already three in the morning, but these late hours, they seemed like nothing to me. I hesitantly reached out for the switch to my radio tiredly in the relentless darkness, before the blinding lights from behind me, made me swerve into another lane in panic, hearing the loud roaring engine from behind me so suddenly.
Turning my head to glare at the moron who had there brights on behind me, I noticed there was only one headlight before I sighed. "Great…" I growled speeding up before the other sped up as well, "Some smart-ass biker…" I'm not sure about other places in the United States, but here in Vegas, anyone with a motorcycle, God it seems like they think they're entitled to be complete asses, acting like they own the roads… Hearing a rather loud back fire from my truck my hazel optics widened before my truck stalled. Cursing rather loudly with the foulest words I could string together in a fraction of a second, I pulled over, watching the jet black motorcycle disappear down the street; and outstretched hand either flipping me the bird or… Was it a thumbs up? I instantly leaned forward squinting intensely to study the disappearing hand before I shook my head, growling in frustration. "You damn jerk!" I bellowed loudly slamming a hand against my steering wheel so harshly my keys feel out of my ignition, "You BETER be late for something because now my truck probably won't spark up again you ignorant piece of—" I paused hearing laughter from the side of the street before I withdrew my sore hand from the hard metal wheel, eyes narrowed with a strong sense of rage before I came to the realization there was nobody there. Horror spread across my features before I sat there silently, hands quaking with a slight nervousness before I began to comprehend things more clearly. For one thing… No one rode out this late at night, nor where they stupid enough to tempt someone in a larger vehicle normally to go faster, or try and piss them off. People drove so malignantly and defensively that motorcyclist didn't stand a chance. Secondly, that bike was so absurdly constructed now that I thought about it, picking up my keys carefully before I tried to start my truck again.
It looks armored, beefed up, and the fact it had brights like a car of truck… Perhaps it was one of the super bikes that those snobbish rich people drove to make other's feel insignificant in there graces…? Either way, it wasn't something that was normally scene out at night, simply because of the pleasure most men got from boasting about their amazing 'toys'. Hearing the harsh grounding from my engine as I tried to restart my nearly prehistoric truck I snarled, yelling at it coarsely before I kicked the gas pedal with a great deal of force before the engine roused weakly, as though it had somehow acquired pain from what I'd just done. My foot throbbed, though I deserved the pain for losing my temper at something so stupid. Maybe it was the fear that made me so on edge at this moment in time… I normally didn't act in such violent ways… I was more conserved, and helpful, but I was easy to infuriate as unfortunate as it was to admit. That's right; I admit I have a short temper, but that doesn't mean I'm an angry person, so don't even think that. Taking off down the deserted streets, I took a series out sharp turns before crossing a rather dark neighborhood. The trees where over grown, there dark and lush branches casting leaves across my windshield before I smiled, feeling relieved I was nearly home now. The street where littered with apples that had fallen off the trees as they rustled restlessly in the winds, though now, they seemed less threatening and leering than before. Ivory and yellow tinged daffodils swayed helplessly in the howling drafted as I nearly my home, passing the seemingly lifeless ones down my street.
Le Strange St, it was definitely all it claimed to be, I'll tell you. In the daytime it was far from ordinary in every aspect, though I'm not really one to talk about that. For holding a career in the medical field, and being the way I was, it was a wonder I wasn't fired. Having crimson red hair you could see from a mile away, being as pale as the moon, and having as many piercing and gauges as I did; not the mention the black wing I've had tattooed at my back nearly a year ago. I could have easily intimated anyone out of uniform, though it wasn't my goal to make people scared of me, or stay away. I just liked things this way, and as sad as it is to admit, I'm probably one of the more normal people off of this block of freaks. Pulling up in front of a rather elegant two story house, I pursed my lips lightly, pressing them harshly against the light blue metal that carefully cupped across my bottom lip before I slid out of my truck, and slammed the door quietly. "Home sweet home…" I managed to muster in a raspy tone. "Time to sleep all day, and go out for another night of fun…" The sarcasm was so clear in my voice that I winced hearing it myself. I was so cruel and cold at times I made myself shutter unintentionally. Pacing up the side of my bared drive way, I stared back at my truck pack on the street before I shook my head. The emerald paint was beginning to chip along with the gloss coat I'd done myself. I frowned lightly, before the sight at my door made me drop my keys.
My stomach twisted and contorted into a serious of knocks, drenched in what felt like a nauseating sickness so strong, I could have lost it right there. A quaking hand made its way to cover my mouth as my widened eyes coursed over the glistening blood at my door, my scared hues scanning over the decaying body before me. Her skin had nearly been pulled from her entire slender form; blonde hair stained a deep blood red, propted against my door before I took a step back, eyes straining to see straight from the horrific display before me. The skin at her face had been craved, though clearly her eyes were missing from their sockets, the giant red gouges spewing there bright life giving elixir as though it had been done only a few moments ago. The shattered bones that broken her tan skin made me shutter before something made me readjust my frightened gaze. A shifting in the darkened shadows caught my eyes before I rose my head, shuttering as my eyes began to well up against my will. Terror tread through me as the spattered words against my door made me draw in a deep gasp, as I prepared to scream like I'd never done before.
Look behind you…
I froze with a fear I'd never felt before in my entire life, petrified beyond belief before I gulped, taking a step back to turn on me heel before cold steal pressed against the side of my head, the sound of a 45 millimeter being cocking echoing in my ears before my throat tightened to the point it was suffocating.
"Don't turn around… Keep your eyes forward, and don't ask any questions." A deep alto-toned voice demanded from behind me in a slightly amused tone.
I did as I was told, keeping completely still before I shivered, tears streaming over my face in complete silence before I opened my mouth to protest. "Wha-what are you—" I began in s shaken tone before I was instantly cut off.
"I believe I told you to keep your mouth shut…" Came the venomous retort, as the gun was forced more rigidly against my temple. I gave a light nod, listening intently before he gave a soft sigh from behind me, his cool breath dancing across the back of my neck delicately. "How about you let me into your home Ms. Valeforth?" He asked coyly, forcing me forward, nearly tripping me with his elegant movements, "I need a few things to pawn off for gas… You're coming with my unlike her." He noted gesturing to the skinned corpse with his blood tainted hand from my other side, "After all, you're far too special for a fate like that…"
I shivered at the fact he actually knew my name, which only proceeded to make me more paranoid as I stood there, being forward toward the door to my beloved home. Reaching for my side, I remembered I had dropped my keys earlier from the seeing the ruthlessly slaughter body… Pausing for only a second, my hand guided to my pants pocket, fingers nimbly gracing the pocket knife at my side before I turned my hand back as quickly as I could, ducking down only to have the knife ripped out of my hand in mid-swing, and be pinned against the door. Hearing the metal clattered to the ground, I only felt a hand stick across my face roughly before my hair was grabbed tightly in his hand, and I was yanked forward. "Let me go n—"
"I don't want to have to kill you…" He lulled sweetly, keeping me from seeing his face clearly, "After all… I don't want to kill such a talented medic… Don't you know… I killed those people for you…?"