The Killer's Revenge

Prologue

I am a detective with the Los Angeles police department and I’m about to tell you a story about a peculiar young man named Blake Moriarty.

Prologue

            There was soft music coming from a home in Granada Hills, cars were parking in the lot, and the host was by the front door greeting each guest.  He was starting to feel sick, so he excused himself and left to go to the master bathroom upstairs.  Sweat dripped from his forehead as he walked up the stairs, with each step the beating of his heart grew louder until it was all he could hear.  As he reached the top of the staircase, he stumbled and caught himself on the wall. After a moment of catching his breath, he started down the hallway. When he opened his bedroom door, he stumbled again before entering the bathroom.  He turned on the faucet and splashed water onto his face.  Looking up at the mirror, he saw a reflection of a masked figure behind him. As he turned around, his legs gave way and he collapsed to the floor.  He willed his muscles to move, to get up, but lay limp. His mouth wouldn’t moved, he couldn’t scream out for help. Footsteps, sound slow and sure, and then came to a stop in front of the man.  The masked figure dragged him from the bathroom to the bedroom and laid him down on the floor. Then the figure picked up a rope with a hangman’s noose and fastened it around the head of the host.  He then tied the other end of the rope to a wood beam. Pulling a chair from across the room, he lifted him up onto a chair and tied off the rope.  As he’s holding him up, he whispered, “This is for my father.” Then he kicked the chair away from his victim’s feet.