The Birthday Massacre//Frank Iero

The Beginning

THE BEGINNING

Marielle's Point Of View

"Where's Dad?" I asked my Mom, who was scrubbing dishes in the sink.

"He had a busy night at work last night, and he's still on duty unfortunately. Apparently there's a big investigation going on. There was a mass murder in the warehouse on the outskirts of town. A shame really."

A mass murder? In this town? "Oh? Is that all he said?"

"Yeah, but the papers should be out soon with the story."

"Well I hope he's safe out there. Should I go to the station and check on him?"

"Sure, I don't think he'd mind seeing you. Maybe you could bring him some lunch? I'll give you some money to buy it." My Mom smiled at me, reaching for her purse.

"Thanks, I'll call you later then. I'm probably going over to Rachel's house later, so don't wait up for me if I'm late."

"Okay! Be careful out there, the roads are slick!"

~

I pulled up to the station half an hour later, driving slow due to the rain that was coming down a million miles an hour.

My Dad is the Sheriff for the only police station in a ninety-five mile radius. Sometimes his job takes a toll on him and makes him seem twenty years older than he really is. He rarely gets time off, but we're still pretty close as a family.

I got out of my little beat up truck and slammed the door loudly. I saw my Dad's car was still here, so that means he's probably on his lunch break.

I opened up the glass door that was blurry from smears and fingerprints and stepped inside.

"Marielle?" My Dad asked, surprise evident in his tone. "Did your Mom send you?"

"Nah, I volunteered. But I did bring you some lunch with the money she gave me." I walked over to his desk and set down the stuff I got from the deli.

"Thanks sweetie. I have to get back to work, do you wanna come with me to the scene for a little bit?" My Dad's voice changed into a more serious tone, bringing up work and the investigation.

"Sure!" I always loved when my Dad would let me work with him when I was younger, and nowadays I'm normally too busy to stop by.

"Follow me in your truck. We'll just go to the scene instead of me explaining it." He started out to his police car, me following his lead.

We got to the 'scene' twenty minutes later, and got out in front of the warehouse. There was yellow tape lining the entrance and wrapping around the perimeter of the warehouse.

"Be careful not to touch anything, or they'll take your fingerprints and make you a suspect."

I walked inside after my Dad, and the smell was the first thing to hit me. Blood. It was sitting in the air, making it hard to breathe, or to even want to breathe. It made me fucking sick. "Hey Dad, I don't think I can take it in here. This is more than I can handle."

"I'll be out in a minute, just breathe in some fresh air outside."

"Okay, see ya in a minute." I walked outside and stood by my truck. The cold air was filling my lungs making me automatically feel better. I decided on a smoke, even though I don't do it very often.

I lit my cigarette and inhaled, then exhaled the smoke, watching it float away with the wind. I stood there waiting for my Dad, cause I wanted to be polite and say a proper goodbye.

But after ten minutes of standing there with the wind blowing in my face, I started to get a sick feeling in my stomach. The feeling that you're being watched. So I turned around, looking back into the woods. It didn't look like anyone was there, but after taking a second glance, I could of swore I saw a guy standing all alone in the woods.