Cold-Blooded

Even the Dead Want Justice

I watched the young girl as she browsed through the library. Had she seen me? Probably not, I had known this girl for a while; she was too naive for her own good. She was getting closer, almost too close for comfort. I took a step back, deeper into the shadows. I opened the scissors and checked the blade. Perfect, just sharp enough. Scissors were the only thing I could bring in here without being too suspicious. The key here was stealth. She was in perfect range now. I looked around to make sure no one was around us. It was time to put the plan in motion. I crept behind her and slid the scissor blade next to her neck.

"Don't make a sound. You are going to set your books down and walk out the back." The dark tone in my voice surprised even myself. She silently complied and I stayed a few steps behind her, scissors at my side. She tried to make eye contact with the other patrons, but that was the beauty of a library. Everyone was too busy studying, reading, or browsing to notice anything going on around them. After setting her books down she quickly walked outside. I hurried to catch up, seized with a fear that she would make a run for it as soon as she got outside. Once I made it outside however, I found her sitting under a large canopy like tree. I sat beside her.

"Thanks for following my directions."

"I didn't have much choice did I?" I could hear the anger in her voice as she turned and faced away from me. She was putting up a calm front, and that was something I had to take care of.

"Once you were outside you could have left. Why didn't you?"

"I figured it would be better to hear you out."

"Do you know why I brought you out here?"

"No, but I know you won't kill me."

"Why do you say that?" She turned to face me, no glimmer of recognition at all.

"You don't seem like the type of person who would kill someone." She was staring at my face intently waiting for a reply. Instead I opened the scissors and slid the blade across my right palm. I tilted my hand and watched the blood drip into the grass.

"So you really have no idea why I brought you out here?" I looked back into her eyes and watched her cool facade crumble.

"Hold out your hand." She hesitated "Now." She slowly slid her left hand closer to me, palm up. Without giving her time to expect it, I slid the blade across her palm. I put my hand in the air and used my other hand to force her hand onto mine, palms touching. I kept my left hand squeezing our hands together. I could feel the fear coming off her.

"Here's the deal. You tell me what I want to know, and I will give you the antidote."

"Antidote? What do you mean antidote?" She tried to yank her hand away but my left hand just squeezed tighter.

"I have poison in my blood, a poison I'm immune to, but you are not. With my blood contaminating yours, you won't have to deal with me much longer." I smirked, enjoying myself. Her eyes widened in horror. She began tugging her hand away from my grasp more violently; she must be absolutely terrified. She would have to tell me the truth, she has to...

"You will give me the antidote?" She was getting desperate, now was my chance.

"Of course." I smiled sweetly dropping her hand.

"Okay." She cradled her hand and lowered her gaze. "What do you want to know?"

"What do you know about the Devon murders?" This caught her off guard.

"My, that was such a long time ago. I don't really know what happened. It was such a long time ago." She was hiding something and we both knew it. It was about time for the truth to come out into the open.

"You seem to forget that you are dying as we speak." I pulled her closer towards me. "Tell me the truth. Now!"

"The Devon murders were the shooting of a family in their home. The mother and the children were killed while the father was out. The father came home to his wife, twin son and daughter dead. The children were about nine I believe; it was a horrible tragedy really."

"I knew that, I want to know the information you kept from the police!" This was taking too long; I was getting anxious.

"I didn't keep anything from the police!"

"You are lying again. I thought we already established there was to be no lies? You are dying remember?"

"Alright, fine. I did keep something from the police. I forgot to mention I knew who killed them. I just couldn't tell them! I couldn't let my brother go to prison! I didn't know that the police would arrest the father!" The girl started to cry. Oh, so now she feels bad. What a waste.

"I knew it!" I stuck my left hand into my pocket and pulled out a tape recorder and pressed stop. She was still crying, she is just as bad as her brother. I got what I came for, I didn't need her anymore. I snapped a small glass vial off the necklace around my neck.

"Here, drink this." She nodded and popped the cork out, poured the contents of the bottle into her mouth and swallowed.

"You know I lied as well."

"What do you mean?" She looked up at me, confused.

"Why on earth do you think I would go to such lengths to poison you? Cut our hands and place them together? Who falls for that kind of thing? Oh, right a stupid little brat who let the police arrest the wrong man for a crime he didn't commit. Just to keep her big brother from going to jail." She was shocked.

"I didn't mean for that to happen! I was only seven!"

"You still knew what you were doing. You know prison killed my father; for a crime he didn't even commit." I began to see the glimmer of understanding in her eyes.

"Wait, your father? Your father was Todd Devon? But that would make you..."

"Henry Devon? Little Henry who died in the shooting? Yes, except I didn't die. After being in a coma for months, I was mistakenly pronounced as dead. After the paperwork was filed, I woke up unable to remember who I was. Taking advantage of my amnesia and not wanting to admit their mistake, the hospital just sent me to the state as a John Doe. I lived in foster home after foster home with no memories of my family. Do you know what that is like? No, I don't think so." She was stunned; I could see the tears well up in her eyes. "When my memories finally came back, I was haunted by them. Whenever I sleep I am forced to relive that night over and over. I can never be free from it. Your brother caused this, and he is free to live his life after taking the lives of everyone I ever loved. And you helped hide him."

"I'm so so sorry. I'm so sorry!"

"It's too late now. You had eleven years to come forward and tell the truth."

"I can now though! And I will! I can still fix this!"

"No, you can't. Remember that glass bottle? You aren't going to get the chance. Justice must be served I'm afraid." I turned around and started walking away.

"They will catch you, you know!" Her voice was cracking and she was still crying. I stopped.

"I'm dead remember? Died in the shooting. Even have a death certificate. Even if the police do catch me, it won't be until after the real killer pays for what he did." I turned back to face her. Her face was turning a slight pink; I wasn't sure if it was from the cyanide or from what I just said. I watched her grab the scissors I had left on the ground and try to get up, but her strength was already leaving her.

"What's happening to me?" Her breaths were getting shallower and I stayed silent until she stopped moving. After disguising her, I knew that by the time she was found it would be too late to save her. Deciding not to be around when that time came, I left. Justice must be served, even if it's a dead man doing the dirty work.

Did anything surprise you? Have any unanswered questions? Constructive criticism? Let me know in the comments. Thanks for reading!