Beginnings (Part II)
It was already very early in the morning, meaning Officer Biggs had to wake up earlier than usual simply to carry on with the 'investigation'. Their absurd chase yesterday had been enough to tire him completely, and now there he was, patroling the area this early and on a weekend.
For a man this young, one would have thought that the higher-ups could take the job at his stead. Only recently did his wife give birth to his baby daughter, a sweet little thing that he quickly wanted to bond with- in her early days. Alas, however, he had no such luck, or time, to even step foot inside of his home.
'Justice cannot rest,' he sighed to himself and decided to start with a town nearby. The smartest thing to do was to check the surrounding areas near the forest, see if Isaac Foster escaped there, and if not; well then... perhaps he would call for reinforcements and check the woods.
Biggs ran a hand through his curly brown hair and checked the map. If they had crossed the forest to reach the main road; then finding them wouldn't be so easy. Even if Isaac stood out the most out of the duo, the country was vast and some parts were more than a little empty...
"I sure hope the wolves ate him." He muttered and pulled over next to a gas station. "He would probably be chewy, with him being an over-cooked psychopath."
His last comment was quite harsh and mean spirited, but he believed that there was no room for respect when it came to killers. Isaac Foster was no exception.
Not wanting to waste any more time; Biggs entered the convenience store near the gas station. If he wanted a lead, then he needed to ask questions.
He was greated by a clerk, who nodded with a smile.
"Good day, officer."
"Ah, good day." Biggs grinned, "can I have some of your time? We're undergoing an investigation and, you see, there's been a kidnapping..."
The clerk scratched his head, "a kidnapping you say?"
"Yes, a little girl was taken."
His eyes widened, and Biggs gave him two pictures. One of a young, blue-eyed blonde aged 14, and the other of an odd-looking, bandaged man in his twenties.
The clerk shook his head immediately, "I'm fairly certain that I haven't seen those two, if I had then I would've surely remembered." He said, but then an image popped in his head. "Though there was an odd little girl who came by an hour ago."
This caught the officer's interest, "can you describe her for me?"
"I'll try... but really it was hard to even have a glimpse of her face. She wore this over-grown hoodie and appeared to be this tall-"
Biggs started taking notes...
"And judging by the tone of her voice, she sounded like a young teen, maybe twelve... thirteen, or fourteen even."
"Young... twelve to fourteen years old... Okay, and?"
"She bought a lot of canned foods, some painkillers, and even wanted a first aid kit."
"First aid?" Biggs sounded curious, "why?"
"She said she needed it to treat her injured mother."
He raised an eyebrow, "why didn't she just call an ambulance then?"
"My thoughts exactly. I suggested that, but she insisted that it wasn't serious. I thought I'd volunteer to check up on her mother but their house is in the woods."
"And that's all?"
"Yes, I just gave her the first aid and wished her goodluck. She left immediately."
Biggs just wrote everything in his notebook with speed that would've impressed the most diligent of students.
When he was done, he walked up to the clerk and gave him a warm pat.
"You sir, have been very helpful. Bless you."
The clerk smiled, "not at all, I hope you find her, whoever she is... and that you catch that wretched kidnapper."
"Trust me, in this world; justice will always prevail."
He bid the clerk farewell and exited the small store with a forced smile. He had more than a few clues to lead them somewhere, but the possibility that the odd child whom the clerk had mentionned was in fact, Rachel Gardner, felt surreal. For one, why would a victim of abudction suddenly walk around, buy random food and painkillers instead of heading straight for the police station? Hell, she could have asked the clerk himself for help!
"Stockholm syndrome?" Biggs thought, "is that even possible for a girl that young? Hmm..."
He continued to think things through for a while before finally deciding to grab his walkie talkie..
"This is Biggs, I think I have a lead..."
XxX
Zack felt like shit.
He had felt like shit a lot recently, but this time it took the cake.
His whole body felt hot, heavy, and in pain, like someone had thrown him in a busy road and let all the cars run him over for a good hour. There was no way he could move in his state- not even lift a pinky. It was so pathetic that he gritted his teeth in frustration. Most of his victims knew- had known him to be a monster and even denied his humanity. He couldn't stand to be pathetic, and yet there he was; looking more human than ever.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck-" he repeated endlessly, wanting very much to stand up and... and do something, anything but laying there... motionless.
Standing still was not his forte, and why the hell was it so dark anyway? Did he open his eyelids at least? Probably not. Hell, was he that weak?
Zack groaned and tried again to wake up, maybe move around a little bit. The world around him was so dark... It felt extremely uncomfortable to remain still in a shadowed area. Usually, he didn't mind the darkness all that much, because it helped him get rid of his victims easily. However, in this state? It became completely different.
The serial killer felt like his body wouldn't budge anytime soon, so he settled with giving up momentarily... maybe rest for a while to see if his strength would return. Zack wasn't known to fear anything, usually, he was a person to fear, and not the other way around.
So when some small bits of memory started coming back, along with muffled voices... he began to panic slightly.
He did not want to start dreaming yet.
He did not want to witness his past again, in those god awful nightmares.
But instead of reliving a traumatic experience and finding himself in that locked room like usual..
Zack witnessed an unusual scenario, starring himself and a stranger.
(First Memory)
"Ugh, disgusting." Zack muttered as he swiftly pulled the scythe out of the couple's entangled body. "Get a room, for fuck's sake. I did not need to see that!"
He spat on the guy's head and kicked some dirt on the girl's bloodied body, completely exposed in the most indecent places, making the serial killer gag. He wasn't one to apreciate nudity like your normal folk, espacially the 'slutty' ones. He had been confident that sex wouldn't satisfy him as much as murder and that his bloodlust would overcome anything else by itself. There was no need to apreciate women in such a way, even if he found their frightened expressions to be the most satisfying.
With a sigh and an angry curse, Zack flicked his scythe to clean some blood off, unhappy with his double kill. Maybe he should just go home... There was nothing thrilling in this city, and people were just gross and weird. Rachel was surely waiting for his return, he kinda' missed her.
He turned around to head home, until a silhouette caught his eye.
Zack squinted at the shadowy figure and held tightly into his scythe, already feeling suspicious of the person. They had most definitely witnessed his slaughter-session, however brief, and it might be a problem...
'This means more action though...' the serial killer thought with a grin and licked his lips. 'Maybe I'm not so unlucky after all.'
He readied himself and took his usual stance, feeling his bloodlust emerge again. The three second game wouldn't quite work in such a place; since there were so many people around, on the other side of the alley. But still, it was possible to have some fun out of this.
"So what? Don't you think its about time you start runnin'?" Zack said hopefully, wanting to gain a reaction from the person. So far, nothing.
Zack approached him(... or her, most likely a him though) slowly, as if to savour the moment a bit longer. The person remained still on his spot and appeared rather at ease, much to the serial killer's annoyance. He was starting to get flashbacks of Rachel, a mere year and a half ago...
"Aren't you scared for your life?" Zack finally asked, feeling desperate at this point for a nice, long and delicious chase. The man chuckled.
"Of you? Nope." He admitted, and Zack noted that his voice was deep, very deep. He was definitely a man.
Zack wasn't a fan of his bravado, it was damn irritating.
He decided against savouring the kill this time too, and opted to murder him simply because he was pissing him off.
"Actin' tough, huh. Well, not for long, sucker!"
For a second there, Zack thought he saw the man smile mockingly at him, completely at ease and void of fear as the serial killer charged with his scythe raised high.
He jumped and attempted to strike him, but the man side-stepped his attack easily. Furious and frustrated; Zack turned to immediately strike again, but was more than surprised when the stranger dodged his every hit just as swiftly.
"Ugh! Won't you die already?!" He yelled and continued swinging his weapon around in a desperate way to get him. No matter how much he tried; he couldn't even reach a strand of the man's hair.
This little one-sided fight ended when the man suddenly blocked Zack's scythe with both of his hands; grabbing into the edge easily with a smack!
"Uh!"
"I think that's enough for now," the stranger spoke; now completely visible under the moonlight. Zack couldn't believe his eyes- he had been beaten by a middle-aged man in his early 50's.
"You're not the boss of me!" The serial killer growled like a mad dog and tried to put more pressure into his next strike to cut the stranger in two. However, he blocked the hit yet again, proving his strength to greatly surpass Zack's.
"Now now, that's enough Isaac. I'm not an enemy." The man spoke gently as he pushed the scythe away, "I'm here to help you."
Zack pulled his scythe back towards him and looked at his new most-hated-person with wide eyes, "help me? What the hell, why would I need your help?!"
The stranger smiled, "oh trust me, you'll need it. For one, I think it's best for us to go somewhere else and chat... Being found out wouldn't be smart." He said and looked pointedly at the dead couple, still joined intimately and covered in blood.
Zack grimaced at the sight.
"I'm not an idiot, I won't follow you." He said stubbornly, "what if its a set up? You could be a cop for all I know."
"Hmm... that is true. Being wary is a good thing, but this time; I can guarantee that I am not an officer." The man opened his arms wide, "I have no weapon on me, or phone, or any other means of communication. You can check if you wish to."
The serial killer furrowed his brows, "No thanks. I don't feel like touching a disgusting old man."
"Suit yourself," the stranger sighed and began walking further into the alleyway, stopping just to look at Zack curiously. "Well? Won't you follow me?"
"As if I'll follow your untrustworthy ass!" He snorted and turned to walk on the opposite direction. He didn't have the time and patience to deal with a random old man that possibly had a kink for murder. Nowadays, people like that were common and it disgusted him, badly.
The stranger sighed and ran a hand through his now graying black hair, "You really are a stubborn man. To think I could've made your life easier..."
Zack ignored him completely and was about to climb back up to the roof-
"You should put Rachel's feelings in consideration."
And then he stopped...
'What..?!'
Caught off-guard by the mention of Rachel's name, Isaac had been so close to jump back down, choke him half to death then interrogate him about his knowledge concerning the blonde...
But then he remembered that her name was everywhere on the news alongside his...
'Shit he almost had me...'
"What about Rachel?" Zack started.
"Isn't she miserable?" The man spoke knowingly, "the poor child... Being kept alive against her will, don't you think that's sad?"
It took a minute for Zack to process what the man had said.
"Wait.. hold on-"
"That sweet young girl only asked for one, small, and simple favor..." The stranger continued while walking in circles, as if deep in thought. Zack stood there, mouth wide open in shock as he struggled to find the right words.
"Now wait just a second-"
"Why don't you kill her, Isaac? What's stopping you?" He asked innocently.
"I-"
The stranger approached him, looking up with a small grin, "are you actually fond of her?"
"Huh? No!"
"Interesting... so your own selfishness is what's stopping you from taking her life... well, that's a first."
Zack jumped back down and glared at the stranger, "get off my butt, old man! Why do you have to bring Ray into this?" He shouted, not liking his assumptions. The stranger grinned and tilted his head, almost as if he was enjoying himself.
"Why not? Her name is always alongside yours in the news, she's practically the reason why you're so famous lately." He spoke innocently, making Zack clench his fists in anger.
What bothered the young serial killer the most... was the man's obvious knowledge of their oath.
There was no way that anyone (aside from him)would know of Rachel's desire for death and eternal peace. Those who had known about it were long gone already. If anything, following the events of last year; their promise had become something personal, intimate, and an important rope that tied them together at all times.
How this random 50 year old guy knew was beyond Zack.
"How the hell did you learn about our promise anyway?" Zack asked while folding his arms, clearly irritated by the whole situation.
The stranger shrugged, "I have my sources, anyone with money can afford information." He revealed while rubbing his thumb, index and middle finger together to motion 'cash'.
Ok, so he was rich? No need to make that obvious, Zack wasn't interested in money. If he wanted something, he would just take it. Only recently with Rachel did he make the 'exception' of taking his victims' wallets for her well-being and comfort.
... Well-being and comfort, he was a walking contradiction.
The stranger soon realized that Zack wouldn't be easy to persuade if he kept going at it that way.
So he opted for another strategy.
It seemed as though the mention of Rachel Gardner was what caught the killer's attention. He could easily guess that she meant a lot to him... no matter how much he denies it. Perhaps a little push would do the trick.
"I wonder why she hasn't commited suicide yet..." the stranger started thoughtfully, making sure to keep an eye on Zack's reaction. "It is, after all, the fastest way to leave this world."
"You wouldn't understand, don't bother trying." The killer answered impatiently, "This only concerns me and Ray, so kindly fuck off."
"Aah, aren't we being evasive. Hm, if this is the kind of game you wish to play, then I may suggest something that could benefit us both-"
The man rubbed his hands together and gave Zack a pleasant smile.
"How about I grant her wish and kill her instead?"
'WHAT THE FUCK?!'
Many people had experienced anger, but seldom had known or seen true fury.
The world turned into black and nothing mattered anymore. His surroundings, the curious passer-by's who had suddenly noticed the dead bodies, the now clouded dark sky and the coming of rain... it didn't matter, nothing mattered.
He couldn't see anything else but rage and the man who was in front of him.
This was the last straw... the last. Goddamn. Straw.
The stranger had strongly believed himself to surpass the killer's abilities. So when he noticed the dark expression on Zack's face; he readied himself to dodge and block whatever attack was going to be directed towards him.
However, things took a rather different turn.
It only took a second for the man to find himself pinned to the wall, his feet hovering above the dirty ground, and his neck nearly broken in two by the killer's powerful grip.
He tried to pry Zack's hand open desperately; completely unable to utter a word of help or anything of the sort. Saliva oozed out of his mouth while his eyes barely focused on the serial killer's heterochromia.
"Listen here, and listen well..." Zack hissed as he leaned closer to the man, "No one, in this entire, fucking mess of a world can kill her but ME!" He pulled the man closer and slammed his head repeatedly on the wall with every word; "ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME!"
The sounds that emitted from their alleyway were more than enough to attract attention from the main road. Eventually, curious people peeked to see exactly what was going on...
Zack barely acknowledged the woman's scream on his left; not caring if he got caught or whatever. He vaguely remembered a man saying he'll call the police, and another crowd shout 'this is him! This is Isaac Foster!'
He would run, he would definitely run, but only after making the stranger suffer.
The killer's eyes, fixated on him; tried to find a reason behind his cheeky smile.
"A-amazing..." the man barely spoke, suffocating; "to... think... she can... bring such an e-expression out.. of you."
Zack snarled and added pressure to his grip, fully intending to hear that long-awaited snap.
But before he could do anything else, a shadow appeared from right behind him, and a large hand caught his arm to pull him away from the stranger.
He turned around, eyes blazing in fury-
(First Memory - End)
XxX
Zack jolted awake at the feel of something warm and soft on his right arm. He looked around to survey his surroundings and concluded that he was no longer in that back alley. The first thought that came to his mind was to remove whoever or whatever held him.
So he turned to look at his right-
And found Rachel kissing his arm.
"Wh... wh..."
'What the hell is she doing?!'
Unable to comprehend or control such a confusing situation; Zack pulled his hand away from the blonde's lips, making a small 'pop!' Sound. She blinked and looked up at him, her cheeks slightly puffy; and spat some blood from her mouth.
"You're awake." She said, bluntly, and wiped the corner of her lips. Zack kept his shocked expression for a good fifteen seconds before uttering.
"What the hell were you doing?!" Had it not been for the bandages and his burnt skin, he probably would've blushed like crazy... maybe.
Rachel gave him a look that made him feel ten times more stupid. "I was trying to remove the poison by sucking on your wounds, I figured that would be better than... wait and see how you'd turn out."
Zack tried to clear his already very confused mind to understand and process that...
Rachel hadn't kissed his arm.
Thank heavens.
Embarassed and slightly irritated, Zack sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair. "Haa, right... I guess."
Rachel nodded and took a wet towel from a bucket nearby, wiping some of the blood off of Zack. He looked at his body and briefly noticed that his wounded parts were void of any bandages... meaning she had taken the liberty to undress him of his second skin.
He was supposed to be annoyed and angry, but he felt surprisingly calm. Perhaps it was due to Rachel's own serenity.
Either way, he knew she had done it to clean his wounds.
"Hey," Zack called. Rachel continued cleaning his wounds without looking up.
"Mm?"
"Thanks, Ray." He said softly.
"You're welcome, Zack." She answered, just as amicably.
But then the serial killer took better notice of his surroundings and his brows furrowed.
"Where are we?" He asked and wondered why this living room looked so familiar.
"Home."
"HUH?"
Rachel finally looked at him straight in the eyes, "we're home, Zack."
"But... But we were in a forest and there were these assholes that chased us-"
"Yeah, but we got away."
And to prove her point, she motioned at the cowering figure in the corner; which Zack identified as the guy he had beaten up a few hours ago.
"What the fuck is he doing here?!" He exclaimed loudly.
"He brought us back."
"How?"
"I made him."
Why is it that everytime he wakes up, life becomes more confusing?
To be continued...