The Beautiful and the Psychotic

Chapter Twenty-Three

THE OUTSIDE

Jillian Hemmingsworth was crying, sitting on the couch with a bowl of ice cream. Another victim of the serial killer turned up dead. The image of a half-burned girl, the number 16 written on her forehead, was just too much. Jillian dreaded, deep down in her heart, that her daughter was dead.

Her husband was trying to console her. But they both knew Alexis was gone somewhere horrible.

The old news reporter was announcing the disappearance of yet another little girl. The youngest ever taken by the 16 killer. Little did Jillian know that it was Alexis who had taken her.

Mackenzie Silva stood in the doorway to her room, her brother's picture in her hands. She traced a line around David's face as a single tear fell on the photo.

"David... come home," she whispered.

Harry Tirrell sat around a campfire in the mountains, a blanket wrapped around his thin shoulders. Addison would be home by now, he thought. His older sister would be sitting on the couch, watching the TV, and see the new victim's face. It would remind her of how Bella's face had appeared on the newscast some time ago. Living in the alpine woods, Harry had lost all concept of time. The radio sitting next to him was announcing the death of some random girl. He didn't know, didn't care. 

Mary Stone woke up that day, turning around, expecting to see her daughter fast asleep. But instead, she screamed at the sight of the number 16, written in red lipstick on Maya's pillow.

She picked up the phone, her hands shaking as she tried to dial triple 000. Her husband was woken by the scream, and was at first confused. But then he saw that Maya was gone.

Nat Ford was the brother of yet another of the 16 Killer's victims. Nat and Natasha used to be the inseparable brother/sister duo. Nat Squared, as their father used to call them. But now Nat was alone. His sister was gone. He sat on his bed, crying for his sibling.

Ethan Castillo drove silently in the stolen Mazda. He was going to return it when he finished his mission, of course. His eyes were focused on the road, eyes hidden by a pair of sunglasses. He ran a hand through his hair, with was now cut short and dyed raven black. He didn't know if this would work. He knew where he needed to go, and his new found freedom would allow him to get there with hands intact. He drove the car past that horrible place where he had been imprisoned for years. On the outside, Silver Gardens looked like a luxurious hotel in the high-end part of the city, but nobody could tell how much worse it was from here.