Chapter Four

I woke up early the next morning so I could hurry and look for more news reports on the Silent Serial Killer. He claimed another victim, a 26-year-old gang member. I guess this couldn't really be considered a bad thing because the gang member was accused of murder and at least seven counts of rape (gross). I know that this shouldn't concern me at all, but I really wanted to meet this serial killer. Though, I can't see it going well…But hey, it'd definitely be a memorable experience. I took note of all the places his victims were killed at and they're scattered all over Manhattan, but apparently the stabbing of the gang member took place right down the street at a bar. So, my thoughts told me to go check out the bar. It's unlikely that the serial killer would be hanging around the crime scene, but hey, it's a small possibility.

I got dressed in my 'Eddsworld Crew' (that had Edd, Tom, Tord, and Matt on it) and some baggy black jeans. It was cold today so I slipped on a black sweatshirt. My hair was neatly brushed and my eyeliner was applied on my bottom lid so I was ready to go. I headed out the door and straight to the bar.

It was extremely hot in the bar and smelled of smoke, which I didn't mind since I smoke myself. Considering there was just a stabbing at least eleven hours ago, there were still a lot of people. I could faintly hear 'Cyanide' by Metallica (a favorite of mine) in the background as I approached the bar. A tall, black haired man looked over at me and smiled, "Hey."

I recognized Ian and smiled back at him, completely forgetting that I was angry at him, "Hey…Isn't it a little early to be boozing?" "Nah, it's never too early for a beer." Ian shrugged with a slight laugh. I laughed, "I guess…So, you're still hanging around this place with that Silent Serial Killer guy loose?" Ian's moonlight silver eyes widened a bit when he heard the name, "He doesn't kill during the day, so I'm not that worried."

I sat down in the chair next to him so we could go more…in depth with the conversation, "Not at all?" "Well, I come here during the night, so I guess there's a slight chance I could randomly get knifed." Ian looked to the side and sipped his beer. I smirked, "You look like a tough guy and I don't think a knife could bring you down." "I've been through worse." He laughed, "I've been knifed before but only once; not, like, repeatedly stabbed. I've been shot, too." "Holy shit!" I laughed with him, "Sounds like it hurts." "I only got shot in the arm, my right arm to be specific." Ian slid up his black sleeve, revealing a prosthetic (but still real looking) arm. "Oh my god, holy crap." My silver eyes were practically the size of apples. He laughed again, "What? Is it weird? 'Cause I've heard that already from plenty of people." "No, it's just—in all the times that I've talked to you, I've never noticed your arm! Or looked at your hand or anything..."

"I got into a motorcycle accident and it crushed my arm." Ian drank the last of his beer and set the glass aside, "But they wouldn't give me a new one because I had a record of self injury or something." "Then how did you…?" I asked him curiously. "John helped me get it. He threatened the doctor to give him a new arm or he'd beat the shit out of him and it worked." Ian answered, taking a cigarette from his pocket. "Wow." I replied simply. "So, I guess I should be nicer to him for the whole arm thing, but really, he's never seemed to care one way or the other." He lit it up and took in a deep breath, letting the smoke seep out from under his lips. "John never seemed to care about getting even with anyone about anything." I said, a bit interested by Ian's nonchalant attitude. "My brother is a fucking idiot for that. He'd be feared more if he held onto those things. But then he starts up with all that 'It's better to be respected then feared because of…something, I don't know, I wasn't paying attention." Ian rolled his eyes and took another puff.

My phone started going off, the little screen reading 'John 3' so I answered it, "Good morning!" "Morning, baby…What's up?" he asked me groggily. "I'm at a bar." I replied. "It's nine in the morning, though." John sounded puzzled. "I was doing research and then I saw your brother so I started talking to him." I replied, still cheerful. "…My brother is there?" John asked again, sounding a little frustrated, "Let me talk to him, please."

I covered the speaker of the phone with my hand and turned to Ian, "John wants to talk to you and he sounds pissed." "Oh, for the love o' God…" Ian snatched the phone, "Don't get your panties in a bunch, John, what do you want?"

I couldn't hear what John was saying, so I just sat there and listened to Ian talk, hoping I could figure out the conversation. "…What? I haven't done anything! What happened at the bar last night… Yes, I know, but-- …Okay, but if you'd let me talk, I-- …John, relax. Look, call me back on my phone." Ian hung up and handed me the phone, "Be right back."

He headed out the door of the bar, phone in his hand and cigarette between his lips.

John's P.O.V.

"What are you doing to her?!" I yelled at my brother angrily. "Like I said, I haven't done anything!" Ian argued back, "I was just having a drink and she walked in so I said 'hi'!" "What did she mean by 'research', anyways?!" "CALM THE FUCK DOWN!!! I don't know!!!" Ian paused and snickered, "But she's interested in the Silent Serial Killer. Perhaps that's it?" "…I swear to god, Ian, I'll fucking kill you if you so much as…"

"I wouldn't do anything to her." Ian replied and inhaled from his cigarette, "She doesn't even know that I'm him. I know that she's all into it and whatever, but if Dameon found out that I was the killer, I'm sure she'd never talk to me." "Why should you care, anyways?" I continued to question him. Ian laughed, "She's a beauty, John. Really! And you know, this gets me to thinking…you've always been the golden child and got everything, so what's the big deal if I take this one thing from you?" "…" I was in a bit of shock and my throat was too tight for me to say anything. "I've already guessed some things about her, too, just by her appearance. She's twenty-six, about…5' 5'', maybe 5' 6'', can be rather bitchy at times…And I'm going to say she's masochistic." Ian paused again, "Am I right?"

"How the hell do you know that, you fucking stalker?!" I yelled at him. "Wow, even the masochistic part? Hey, that works for me." My older brother laughed, "I'm going to have fun toying with her." "STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER, YOU SICK, SADISTIC BASTARD!" I screamed. "I love you, too, little brother. Bye-bye!"

H-He…hung up on me. Damn it, damn it, damn it!

Ian's P.O.V.

I headed back into the bar after finishing my cigarette and stood next to Dameon, "I have to go, babe, but would you like to meet me here at…let's say…eight?" "Okay." Dameon nodded with a cute smile and hopped down from the barstool. "Promise me you won't forget? I have to tell you something important that I can't tell you now." I asked her again, just to confirm it. "I won't forget; promise." Dameon reassured me and headed out the door.

Tonight will be interesting—that is, if my brother doesn't show up.