So, I probably never would have gotten this written if I hadn't gone to the concert on Saturday. (Yeap, The Planet Smashers, Hedley and Simple Plan were pretty freakin' awesome). But as I was walking out, I saw this little kid sitting in the stand thingers with her mom or something, and I dunno, the idea sorta just hit me for what I was going to add to this chapter, but yeah. I just had to get it out of my head and onto the computer. Which I did.
So yeah, I'm definitely going to end this soon, theres about one final twist I'm gonna throw into it, but it'll end sometime in the near future, because I want to have this finished before school starts up again.
Okay, I'll really stop rambling now. Here's the chapter, and sorry for the long delay.
Chapter 20 - Sally
The man who had taken away the body of Ray Danniels stared at the morning paper as he sipped from his coffee cup as a small chuckle escaped his throat. There on the front page was an article stating that the alleged 'copy-cat killer', was nothing more than a pyromaniac homeless man taking revenge for someone who stole from him.
"I could have been a better copy cat killer than that," the man laughed to himself.
It was the truth. He could easily have pulled it off if killing people was more his style. He'd been there at pretty much all the original crimes. He was Ray Danniels' get away driver. He was even there to witness what happened to Greg, when he had picked up the body of Ray Danniels.
But he knew he couldn't get away with killing anyone. He wasn't as crafty, he wasn't as cunning as his late partner. He could never pull it off, he'd be caught mere hours after he had committed a crime. He knew that's what would happen, so he decided not to follow down the path as his friend. Being the driver, or the lackey... whatever you wanted to call him was fine enough.
But what if the lackey had a conscience? What if this lackey had a deep feeling of regret when he thought of how Greg was doing. Despite the efforts of the team at the lab, the media still managed to get ahold of the story where Greg had wanted to kill himself and it was plastered all over the newspapers.
It gave him a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. Much like the one he had felt when he saw that one of Danniels' victims was that young girl. Another reason why he could never be a murderer. He was plagued with a conscience, that most cold blooded serial killers could easily drown out.
However, the voice wouldn't go away. He decided that if he just paid a visit to see Greg, just to make sure he was doing all right, then it would ease his mind and he could move on with his life. Curse the half decent heart he was blessed with.
But he couldn't just walk in and ask to see Greg. Surely Greg would remember his face and turn him in for being an accomplice. He would be sent to jail, unless of course he could change his appearance and make it look like it wasn't really him who was going in.
But it would need a reason. He couldn't just say that he was some random person off of the street who was concerned about the well being of someone he'd never met. No, that wouldn't work.
The man was beginning to feel as if he would never be able to go, until an idea hit him. He would pretend to be a relative of another victim. It wasn't a very good story, and would probably need some work, but it was a start. Sooner or later, the lackey was going to pay a visit to see Greg.
Greg was seated at a table in the building's recreation room watching some of the other patients play Ping-Pong. He normally didn't spend much time in the rec. room, but he'd already counted the tiles in his room seven times, so he decided it was time he got out for a bit.
One of the main reasons he didn't leave his room was that even in the rec. room, there wasn't much to do. There was always someone who'd gotten there before you and had already claimed the T.V., or the Ping Pong table, or had already picked up the good magazines.
It made him long to be back in his own home again. He was constantly being reassured that he'd get to return very soon, but 'very soon' seemed to be an eternity away. He felt as if he was stuck. Stuck in time. Like this place was a Wormhole that sucked people in and kept them in this one period of time forever. A place where people checked in, but never checked out.
He wondered if anyone else was feeling like that...
His attention then turned to the small television set, and laughed slightly at the image of a singing skeleton. It was Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas. He'd seen that movie a few times before and began to softly hum along with Jack Skellington.
A young girl, probably no older than seven or eight was seated in front of the television with an older woman-- perhaps a social worker-- at her side. She must've heard Greg's humming, for she rose and walked over to him.
"You like Jack too?" Greg heard her tiny little voice say.
Greg smiled and nodded.
"I like Sally," the little girl smiled, "because that's my name too."
Greg took another look at the young girl. Her blond hair was disheveled and flowing every which way, and her eyes looked as if she was trying to fight off a blank stare. Greg wondered if she'd witnessed something she'd rather not see. Something so horrendous that the very sight of it would be enough to admit a child into a place such as this for her own good. Something like the sights he was forced to see everyday at his work.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the older woman who'd been sitting with the young girl. "Sally, what did I tell you about walking off?" the older woman stated, with a hint of worry in her voice.
Greg shot the older woman a half smile. "We were just talking about the movie. She likes Sally."
The woman looked slightly confused and stared at Greg as if he had two heads. This, of course, made Greg feel slightly uneasy, but he was unsure if he should ask why the woman was acting the way she was.
"She was talking about the movie?"
Greg nodded.
"Are you serious? She hasn't said two words since..." the woman trailed off as if not wanting to bring up the topic of something better left in the past.
"I was humming along with the song. She asked me if I like Jack -- the skeleton who was singing in the movie. And then she told me she liked Sally," Greg explained.