"Wake up Jackson!" called David harshly, rushing by Chriseyda's office. She had fallen asleep at her desk the night- or would that be morning?- before. She snapped out of her slumber and blinked a few times to wake herself up. She jumped up and chased him out of the station a few seconds later. "They got a call from the killer," said David, jumping behind the wheel of his car. "She's in the cemetery by his grave."
Chriseyda jumped into the passenger's seat and turned on the police radio scanner. "Are you sure it was the killer?"
"Absolutely," said David. He pushed the pedal to the floor and took off toward the cemetery. "The killer herself called. I identified the voice."
Chriseyda held on for dear life as David took the turn into the cemetery tight. It had started raining so the car slid, making it even more dangerous to be driving along so fast. He hit the breaks hard, skidding the car to a stop. He was out and running for the grave, his gun ready.
Chriseyda was behind him enough to watch his back.
David was running toward the grave, he remembered vividly where John Doe had been buried- it was another image that would forever been melded into his memory. There was no one standing by the grave. Just as his tired and confused mind was trying to sort everything out, his phone rang and he stopped to answer it. The flurry of words and explanation came out too quickly for him to catch everything but he caught enough.
Police Chief Thompson had just received word from the librarian. She had recognized Jane Doe and had given a more accurate description. On top of that, they had gone through most of the pictures found at Jane Doe's apartment. The analysts had picked up something in a few of the pictures and when they enhanced them, they found something that changed everything.
Chief Thompson spilled the news to David, leaving him reeling in confusion.
"Say what?" demanded David. He had stopped ten feet away from John Doe's grave.
Thompson was in the middle of repeating his last sentence when it finally sunk into David's mind. He slammed his phone shut, turning to face Chriseyda and raising his gun. He was knocked off his feet as a large piece of board made contact with the side of his face. His feet slipped out from under him in the mud, and he landed face down.
Chriseyda had swung the board as hard as she could. She was pleased with herself that it made a good, square contact with his left temple. He sprawled flat at her feet, face down, gun still in hand. She was standing over him, the board still held firmly in her hands, looking like the warrior goddess Athena- or rather an evil version of the goddess. She kicked his gun away from him, dropped the board in the mud, and pulled her own weapon.
"Well, how the tables have turned," said Chriseyda looking down at him in mock sympathy for his plight. The rain which was now coming down in sheets, making her hair stick to her face and neck, and her mascara smear slightly down her cheeks. "You thought you would just get away with it, didn't you?"
David was writhing in pain at her feet. He turned to look up at her, and the look on his face told her that he had no idea what she was talking about. At least he didn't understand the full extent of it.
"You killed him and you thought you would get away with it," she said refreshing his memory, and waving the gun at him in the process. "He was an unarmed civilian!"
"He was a lunatic!" yelled David angrily, reaching up to feel the gash in the side of his head. Blood caked his hand when he brought it down, and the rain beat down, trying to wash it away. "He was a freaking, insane, lunatic!"
"He did what he had to do! He brought attention to the sins of this world. He died before his plan could be brought to completion. I knew in my heart I had to finish what he had started. I was already a Detective, so it seemed like a natural step for me to come here to the city. I wanted to make you regret stopping his glorious mission."
"I don't regret killing him," retorted David, blinking back the rain and tears in his eyes. "He killed my wife and child! He deserved to die for what he did to me, and so do you."
"Yes," she said nodding her head. "There are two sins left. Like my predecessor, my sin is the sin of envy. I envied everybody else's life, including yours. Your sin is wrath, it always has been. We will both die here tonight- I guarantee it."
Chriseyda turned slightly as she heard police sirens coming toward the cemetery. The rain pouring down around her- soaking her hair and clothing- was relentless.
"Well, it looks like our time is up," she said simply turning back to face David.
He watched her face; she had the same smug smile that he had seen a year before, only this time the table had indeed been turned against him. He closed his eyes; finally the haunting memories would be erased from his tortured mind. He would be able to rest without nightmares and without fear. He held his breath in anticipation; he wanted to be free of his pain. Silently and without another word, she fired a single round into his head. He dropped instantly.
Chriseyda turned and walked the last ten feet to Doe's grave. She fell to her knees in front of it and put her hand on his small, simple grave marker. The sirens were close now. She could hear the sounds of the police officers running toward her with their guns drawn.
"Well John," she whispered. "It's almost finished. Wrath has been destroyed, just as you had planned. The work you began one year ago is almost completed, and when it is, I will see you again."
"Chriseyda Jackson!" demanded police Chief Thompson from behind her. "Put your hands in the air!"
"I will see you my dear brother," whispered Chriseyda. She had the gun in her right hand pointed at her chest and her left hand on his grave. "I have one request," she yelled out loud to Chief Thompson. "I want to be buried beside my brother. Put Jane Doe on the gravestone."
"Hands in the air!" he yelled again. "Don't make me shoot you!"
"I'll save you the trouble," she yelled back calmly. "I love you John," she whispered and then pulled the trigger on herself, ripping a hole in her chest and splattering blood onto the granite and marble gravestones near her. Her lifeless body slumped over her brother's grave stone, blood pooling in the letters and numbers of the grave marker.
Chief Thompson ran up to her and turned her over. The rain had started falling harder, washing the blood from the gravestones around her limp body. Her lifeless eyes were open, and they still held the traces of a self-satisfied smile in them. Just like that SOB, he thought as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in a number.
"Bring the coroners wagon," he said. "We have two dead bodies; a murder and a suicide."
He turned his attention back to the two bodies sprawled in the rain, mud, and blood. He shook his head; it shouldn't have ended like this. There were only two words that came to his mind which could fittingly sum up the scene in front of him.
"It's over."
The End