The College Campus Murderer

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I back away slowly, and the killer walks toward me. I have never felt this scared since I faced Terry five years ago. My heart is pounding. I am breathing deeply.

Suddenly, the killer lunges for me and I jump out of the way. He swings the knife down and it is embedded in the counter top. The killer pries the knife out and swings at me. I lean back with each swing. I am soon cornered in the kitchen. I dive into the dining room when the killer strikes down again.

I turn to see that the killer pries the knife out of another section of the counter. I rise and run for the door. I can hear the killer follow me. I swing the door so I can save myself a couple seconds. I run down the stairs. I look back to see that the killer is at the top of the flight and swings the knife back as if he is going to throw it.

I turn and run down the next flight. I turn back to see that the knife is embedded in the wall because the killer three the knife. Good thing I saved myself that extra second. I continue to run down the rest of the stairs and out of the building.

I look back to make sure that I'm not being followed. I yell when I bump into someone. I look up to see that a police officer is standing in front of me. "Sir, are you okay," the officer asks.

"No, he's right behind me! He killed my roommate!"

"You're safe, sir. Just stay out here." The officer and his partner run inside with their guns drawn. Minutes later they all back out. "There was no one in there."

"But I saw him!" He was there!"

"Sir, there was no one in the halls. If there was someone there, they're gone now."

That night I was brought to the nearest police station and placed in an interrogation room. I was in there with nobody by my thoughts for maybe an hour or two. I didn't really pay attention to the time. It's happening again. It's happening again. It's happening again. It's happening again. That is the only thing I kept thinking over and over and over. My heart is still racing. I am still breathing hard. My fingers feel cold and my entire body is shaking. It's happening again.

A man walk into the room. He is wearing a black suit with a red and blue striped tie. His hair is short and black. "Mr. Gregson," he asks. I nod. "I am Detective Jackson. You're here because you need to answer am few questions about a serial murder investigation."

"Okay," I barely make out.

"How long have you known Mr. Hendrickson?"

"About a week."

"And when did you arrive back at the apartment?"

"Around 4:00 o'clock."

"What did you do when you walked up to apartment?"

"I went to unlock the door, but it looked like someone already broke in. I opened the door to see what was inside. The whole apartment was dark except for my room. There was a cellphone on the floor that lit the room. And I noticed a liquid on the screen, so I turned my desk lamp on. The liquid on the phone was red. I looked up and saw Garth's body pinned up on the wall. I didn't even notice that I dropped the phone. I backed out and fell on the fllor. I got up and called the police. After I hung up, I heard someone walking around the living room. He stepped out and he was wearing a cloak and a mask, and he was holding a knife covered in blood. He tried to attack me, but I ran. I ran down the stairs and out of the building. And that's when I ran into the police officers. I saw the paramedics take Garth's body was in a black body bag. And that's when I was brought here."

After I finish talking, I realize that the Detective has been writing everything down. "Okay," Detective Jackson says after writing. "I am going to show you a series of photos. I want you to see if these men anything to you." He slides a beige colored folder across the table.

I flip it open and look at the photos. The subject of each photo is are different symbols, and it looks like each were drawn in blood. One of the symbols were drawn in my room. "No, I don't know what these could mean."

"Are you sure," Detective Jackson asks.

"I'm sure."

Suddenly a loud crash comes from outside. Detective Jackson and I both look at the door. "Stay here," he tells me.

I listen to him. I look down at the table. I didn't realize that I dropped the photos. I look at them all together. Something clicks inside of my brain.

Detective Jackson walks back in. "Everything's okay," he reassures me. "A desk lamp was just knocked over and it shattered on the floor. Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, a pair of scissors," I reply embarrassed.

"Excuse me," Detective Jackson asks.

"Just do it."

He leaves the from and comes back faster than when he checked on the loud crash. He handed me them and I started to cut the symbols out. I can sense the the outrage in his expression. He's probably thinking how unorthodox This is. I begin to piece them together like a weird puzzle.

I lean back after I placed the four symbols in the correct order. The symbol makes the same skull image as in the back of yearbook from five years ago. The words that are around the symbol make a complete phrase. "I am back," I say without realizing that I said it aloud.

"What was that," Detective Jackson asks.

I look up and him, and I can tell he can the horror in my face. "The series murders. The symbols made of blood. They're all because of me."