Karen locked the double doors. She grasped the handles, pulling to ensure they were locked. It had been a busy day, then again Saturday's always were. Usually she welcomed the crowds, after all, time always seemed to fly when she was busy. Today, however, the day couldn't have finished quickly enough. Well, at least the time after she had met Sam.
Reaching up, she undid her long brown hair. Shaking her head a bit, she ran her fingers through it, hoping it didn't smell like grease. Although Sam hadn't promised anything, Karen was hoping he'd stop by to walk her home. She had made it clear what time she was off, and after the way they'd hit off earlier, well, her hopes were high.
As she stepped away from the building, heading toward the main drag, she glanced down at her watch and noted that it was already after 10:30. She'd gotten stuck closing on her own, and it had taken a bit longer than usual. Glancing around, Karen noted just how deserted the fairway was, sighing a bit, she also noticed that Sam was nowhere in sight. Oh, well, she thought, it's not as if he said he'd be here.
As Karen neared the bridge, she shivered. Sam had stopped in earlier to explain why he'd bolted, and had told her about the attempted suicide. Her glance slid toward the water, up until now she'd paid little attention to the deaths. After all, it wasn't uncommon for suicide to spread like a malignant disease, planting its poison in people who felt they had little to live for and nothing left to loose. Though, lately it seemed as if it was becoming too common, especially in a place where people came to have fun.
Karen pulled her gaze from the water once more, and headed down the path that led to the employee housing. As she did, her thoughts once again slipped to the young, shaggy haired man she'd met earlier. Her mind was a million miles away, as she continued down the path, the moon lighting her way.
888
Dean groaned in relief as he caught sight of Sam walking out of the shadows. In his hands, he carried a white Styrofoam box, his computer bag was slung over one shoulder.
Not bothering to wait, Dean moved to grab the box out of Sam's hands. Throwing up the lid, he groaned at the site of the burger that lay within. His mouth watering at the sight of the food, he took a huge bite, closing his eyes in pleasure.
"Damn Sam. What'd you have to do, go kill the cow yourself?" Dean moved toward one of the benches that lined the creek and took a seat. While he waited for his brother's response, he took another bite.
He almost missed the look that flashed across his brother's face, almost. "Sam, why'd it take you so long?" There it was again, Dean noticed, a look.
Dean's keen gaze studied Sam for a moment, taking in his brother's lightly flushed cheeks and the way he avoided Dean's eyes. A huge grin broke across the older man's face. "So, what's she look like?" Dean could see his brother scrambling to avoid answering.
Regardless of what Sam thought, he was unable to hide much from his brother. Dean always knew when something was up and right now something was definitely up.
"Come on Sam, you might as well spill, you know I won't stop until you do." At Sam's continued silence, Dean bated him. "Remember Eileen Hubert?"
Sam was now blushing in earnest. His gaze was fixed on the creek as if he stood sentry, but Dean knew he really wasn't seeing the creek. No, most likely his geek brother was remembering how at the age of seventeen, he'd come home from a late night with Eileen Hubert only to find Dean waiting for him, in the kitchen.
Sam had let himself into the darkened kitchen of the rundown apartment they'd been renting. His sigh of relief at the darkened room, the only noise. Well, at least that was until he heard his brother's voice come out of the darkness. As Dean flipped on the light, Sam had been momentarily blinded by the brightness. Unable to cover up his disheveled state, he'd mumbled something, kept his eyes glued to his feet and had tried to bluff his way out of the room.
Dean was standing before him in a blink, one hand resting lightly on Sam's chest. "Come on Sam, spill."
And, after fifteen minutes of Dean's taunts, questions and presumptions, Sam did. He sat at that table for an hour, his gaze glued to hands, unable to meet his brother's eyes. Although his embarrassment at talking to Dean about his sex life was acute, his relief at being able to work through his feelings had helped make it worth it. Finally, Dean had offered a bit of advice, some brotherly ribbing, and a beer. It had been the first time they had talked about woman over beers, but certainly not the last.
Dean's musings snapped back to the present as he waited for Sam to confess what was going on.
Sam shifted a bit, almost like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Rifling his shaggy hair, he finally sighed and said, "It's nothing really, I just kinda met someone."
Dean grinned, not bothering to swallow his bite of pickle first. "Okay, Sammy. I'm all ears, lay it on me. I want all the juicy details."
Sam rolled his eyes, and moved toward his brother. Dropping his lanky frame onto the bench in front of Dean, he asked, "Don't you think we'd be better off discussing the case, Dean."
Dean knew a diversion when he heard one. "Alright then, case first and Sammy's love life second." Leaning in, he asked, "So what'd she have to say?"
Sam ignored the pointed remark and began to go over all he'd learned about the park. "I heard the same thing you did. Three girls started the season, and now all three are gone. Though I'm pretty sure the one..." Sam dug into his computer bag, pulling out his notebook. Rifling through the pages, he continued, "I'm pretty sure that Carrie Anne Shoenmeier left because she was pregnant. Apparently, she went home to her folks. That'll be easy enough to verify. As for Sandy Davis and Cora Hoke, no one seems to have a clue."
Dean pushed away the remains of his meal, and nodded. "Yeah, I got the same info. Though Sally didn't know that Carrie Anne went home, she did say that Cora was offered an internship and had decided to take it. Some ad agency in Philadelphia."
"Okay, again easy enough to check out. So it looks as if we want to spend our time focusing on Sandy, she seems to have just disappeared."
"Yeah, good we'll go back to Burger King in the morning and see what we can find. Now let's here it, Sam. Who is she, what's she look like, and how far'd you get?"
Sam couldn't stop a snort of laughter from escaping, even though he knew it would only encourage his brother. "Her name is Karen. I met her at the restaurant. She's pretty and we only talked."
"Talk, Damn, Sam, do you ever do anything with a girl but talk?"
Sam ignored his brother's retort, and tapped his fingers on the tabletop. "She's about to get off work." he said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Dean smiled even broader and stood up. Handing his brother his trash, he turned toward the creek. "Go on, get out of here. Walk the poor girl home or something. I've got this covered."
Sam stood uncertainly for a moment. He was torn between staying to keep an eye on Dean, and spending more time with Karen.
"Go, Sam, go now. You can come back and spell me later."
"Thanks, Dean."
"Yeah, just get out of here." Dean glanced over his shoulder for a moment, his eyes crinkling with laughter. "And don't come back too soon. If I'm going to miss sleep over some girl, then you better be doing a bit more than talking."
Sam ignored his brother's parting remark and headed back towards the restaurant. He was pretty sure Karen would be headed home already, but he figured, he'd track her down starting there.
888
He watched her from the shadows. Her long, dark, hair shone in the light of the moon, her body was sleek and strong. She walked with a spring in her step, as if her soul was simply too light at the moment to trudge along.
He'd thought it was over, he'd thought he could control it. He was wrong. This time he thought, this time would end it, then he'd be able to go back to his life. After all, wasn't that what he wanted. To once again, return to his normal life, that's what she'd taken from him, after all.
His eyes seemed to loose focus, he began to pant. His thoughts bombarding him, the voices that he tried to ignore reached a near deafening level.
It was always the same, he offered her everything, everything he had and everything he was. And still she walks away from him, turning her back on him. Taking and taking until he was only a shell of the man he'd been. Taking and taking until she forced him to act, to stop her from taking what little of him was left. He would stop her this time, he'd stop her once and for all.
His hand clenched around the wooden handle, he held. A spasm of anger flashed across his normally mild features. He could feel his anger rising like a wave, gathering force, and like a wave there was not stopping it. His only choice was to ride it to it's culmination. Without realizing it, he began moving forward, the voice in his head drowning out all other noise.
How dare she turn away, how dare she leave him. She was his world, his reason for living. No, he thought, not this time. This time he'd show her he was the boss. This time would be different.
He surged forward, his vision nothing more than a red haze. His approach was swift and silent, reaching out one work roughened hand, he spun her around. A feeling of power swept through him, as he watched the expressions that flashed across her face. Confusion was first and foremost, then recognition, quickly followed by fear, as he raised the blade he held in his hand.
In an instant the blade fell. The force of his blow drove the blade through cloth, skin, muscle, bone, and finally piercing her heart.
Removing the blade, he soaked up her terror, her fear, allowing her emotions to ease and finally erase, the ache he felt in his heart. Finally, he was free, free from the hurt, the pain that was his near constant companion. Free at last, he gave a gleeful cry. As he raised the knife once more, he couldn't help but laugh out loud, as he stabbed again and again.
It was the pain in his shoulder that finally stopped him, an ache that seemed bone deep. Frank pushed himself upward with shaking hands. Unable to look directly at the lifeless body beneath him, he stood all the way up. Glancing around(,) he breathed deeply, trying to calm the racing beat of his heart. He knew he needed to move and move now.
Although it was late, the park was open and anyone could pass by. Distaste evident on his face, Frank quickly lifted the girl into his arms. As he made his way into the woods, he moved through the thick layer of leaves lying on the ground. Not too concerned about the noise he was making, after all, he was far from both the campers and the employees, he found a slight indentation in the ground. Pushing away the leaves and digging out the rich soil, he made a trench to lay the body in. After placing her in the depression, he then covered her over. Confident that he'd hidden the body well enough for now. After all, it's not as if anyone would ever miss her.
Intent on finishing as quickly as possible, Frank made his way back to the park. Careful to keep watch he, moved back to the scene of the crime. Luckily, the girl had bled out to the right of the forest floor. He quickly made short work of covering up the already rust brown stains, with a new layer of leaves and dirt.
After a bit, he stood back admiring his handiwork. He was fairly certain no would ever notice, and really even if they did there was nothing to tie him to this place. He'd left his knife with the body for now, and all that was left, was to get cleaned up. He'd use the public shower for that, they were always deserted this time of night. Heading off into the darkness, Frank felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. Maybe, he thought, he'd be fine from here on out. Maybe now the voices would leave him alone.