Understanding A Killer

Consumed by darkness

Will's mind was like an ocean filled with endless opportunities. He'd escape to his favourite places and spend time with people long gone, ones he treasured the most. Most times he'd run to Abigail and meet her near a peaceful creek, far away from the city's loudness and his job. There, Abigail never helped her dad kill anyone, and he never once shot his gun at a person.

But now, even the blissful gardens in his mind seemed to be stained by unwashable darkness. Taking a life opens a door that can never be fully closed. He slammed it shut, locked it down and ran, and yet, the knocking wouldn't stop. It kept knocking, louder and louder, until the trees died down and the creek turned black.

And now he had no light to follow. It had died down, walking right along his own path of destruction.

The loud knocking inside his mind stopped as the phone in the real word rang. "Hello?" - He answered.

"Hey, Will." - Jack's voice was quiet, "The autopsy results are back."

"And?" - Will asked eagerly, getting up from his couch, "Did they find something?"

"Not really." - Jack sighed, "Miram's been dead for about 2-3 weeks. The low temperatures prevented decomposition, so they can't tell for sure. Other than that, there's nothing. Just dirt beneath her fingernails."

"Did you talk to the judge? Has he listened to Eliana's testimony?"

"He won't hear it. Chilton's the Ripper as far as he's concerned."

"Yeah. Of course." - Will clenched his fist.

"Is Eliana with you?"

"No. She stormed off... It's as if she's just given up."

"I'll call her. If anyone will be able to help us, it's her."

"Okay." - Will hung up as unrest crept into his body.

He won't be able to sleep anyway, so he tought he should test out a theory about the new case.

He drove to the mansion, using only a flashlight when he got inside, careful not to attract the curious paranormal investigator's attention. The house had two floors with over 10 rooms and a giant yard. Moving carefully through the darkess, he made sure to notice the details, touching the ones he found interesting with gloves.

The house wasn't lacking in the aesthetic department, and most of the furniture was old in the most expensive sense. Will braced his fingers over the bookshelves, walls and kitchen tools. It took him quite some time to walk through the house as the dark was making it difficult.

He entered the wine cellar, admiring the rich collection that spanned over 50 years. As he read the labels, a torn part of the wallpaper caught his eye. He had to use force to remove it, but once it was gone, the wall revealed a small handle.

After he pulled it, part of the shelf opened, and a dark passage sprung into vision.

It was just as his theory suggested. It didn't take a genius to figure it out, or a particulary good profiler. If a murder occured in a house that was locked from the inside, it was only reasonabe to assume the killer had already been inside, hiding. And which better place to hide is there then a secret room, in a house built over 50 years ago?

In all honesty, Will was amazed someone hadn't figured it out earlier. The mansion was never haunted. By a ghost, at least.

Now, as the narrow passage stood in front of him, the only question was wether the killer was still inside. Should he go in, and find out?

He made sure to text Jack about his finding, but couldn't resist the voice in his head, urging him to take a peek. How did this killer live, and what made killing so fun?

Just a little look, Will thought, the killer had probably left anyway.

He stepped inside, crawling through the passage barely wide enough for a grown man. With one hand he gripped the flashlight, the other on the trigger, ready to shoot. The space was very small, and the corner was just a meter away. If he passed that mark, it would truly become unsafe, so he turned around instead as the voice of reason won inside his mind.

Just as he showed his back, a hand emerged from the darkness, hitting his head with something heavy. He dropped his gun as he hit the floor, and he was being dragged by the ankle before he had a chance to react.

He couldn't see much, but he caught a glimpse of the attacker as the flashlight was still on. He pulled him all the way to a small room filled with unopened boxes. There was even a TV on the side, coupled with a foldable chair.

Will watched through a haze as the killer picked up his gun, holding it over his head.

"Did you tell anyone?!" - The killer spoke angrily.

"No." - Will lied.

"Still, you're gonna have to die." - He put his finger on the trigger.

"You're the ghost haunting this mansion." - Will spoke through a heavy breath, "How long have you been killing? Before I die, do I at least get to know how you did it?"

A prideful smile formed on the killer's lips. "15 years. And it took you this long for you to figure it out."

"So, all those people who died in freak accidents... That was you?"

"The first one really was an accident." - He talked with joy, "I was an amateur thief, and I did a bad job robbing a jewelry store. I ran from the police, and happened to stumble upon this house. I also happened to stumble upon the 'wine cellar'. Apparently, the house was built by some mafia guy back in the 40s. He needed a room to hide... whatever he needed to hide. So, the police never found me. But just as I was leaving, a stupid woman decided to take a walk in the middle of the night. So, I pushed her down the stairs."

"And then you realized you enjojed it. Once you opened that box, you couldn't go back."

"The killing part felt good. But the real fun was what came after it. All of the rumours about a ghost pushing a woman! I got to be some mysterious force people feared. It was just the most fun I've ever had! And then I did it again a few times. I wanted to do it as long as possible."

"Then..." - Will's face darkened, "You shouldn't have killed three people in one night."

"You're right. I liked this place. It was my own secret, safe heaven I'd come to sometimes. But once I started playing with that pillow... Watching them die before they even realized what was happening... I couldn't stop!" - His eyes widened, "Do you know what it's like? I'd like to taste that feeling again."

"Taste it, then." - Will whispered, "Shoot me."

"Oh, no, no." - The killer shook his head, "I don't do shooting."

He put the gun on the ground and got closer to Will, cracking his fingers one by one. Will assesed the killer's posture as he pretended to be unable to move. He was tall, but probably not used to physical fights.

The killer put his palms around Will's neck, gripping his trachea. He didn't put his whole strength into it, assuming that Will was too weak to resist. Will waited a few seconds, trying to catch him off guard. Then, he slammed him head-to-head, making him fly away in a dizzying motion.

"Huh... maybe I underestimated you." - The killer spoke while blood dripped from his mouth. Then, he jumped on Will
rapidly, punching him before he returned to choking.

Will was able to throw him off, trying to reach for the gun this time. His hand was grabbed again, another on his collar. A few punches were exchanged, all as the interlude to who'd grab the gun first.

The killer gave Will a pathetic glance just as he realizded the gun was in Will's hand. For just one second, his eyes were begging.

"No!" - He cried out as Will put his finger on the trigger.

Without hesitation, the gun went off, and the killer fell down with a singular shot to his head.

Will breathed heavily as blood splattered all over his clothes. He gave the dead man just one glance before he pulled himself up. "After everything... you don't get to beg."

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Author's note: Where is this story goinggg?? You're about to find out in the next few chapters. (A few more and it's finished)