This Winter

Chapter One- No Support

"Jackson, do you hear that? Jackson? Jackson, you okay? Jackson?!"

October 12th, 1982

Department stores are overrun in Phoenecia, New York. Winter is just around the corner in this small town, and many snow-storms are predicted. People are preparing their homes, their families, and themselves for these events.

But with all of this going on in this small town, nobody remembers the true horror of winter in this town. Every winter for the past twelve years, hundreds of lives are taken in this town, and they are not made obvious. Many have forgotten or moved on from these happenings. All except one person. Our story follows this person.

This man is Jackson Nero, writer and detective. He has been studying the murders for the past twelve years, and has practically devoted his entire life to them. But this year, Jackson discovers something terrifying.

This winter, the murderer has targeted everyone in Phoenecia.

"It only makes sense!", Jackson says, outraged at Police Chief Harvey Wenson. "I have given all of the evidence I have, all of the ties and connections... what more do you need!?". Harvey looks down at his hands, then brings his attention back to Jackson.

"What we need is a description of the person.", Harvey responds. "It would get us a lot further than just speculation." At this point, Jackson was furious. What he had devoted twelve years of his life to just to bring to the police wasn't passing as true. "Damn you! Damn you all! If you want more and more residents of your town to die every winter, than so be it! I'll take action of my own if that's what it takes!", yells Jackson. Two police officers slowly approach Jackson from behind, as to confirm protection of the Chief. Harvey leans forward on his desk.

"Listen Nero, when you have more fitting information, come see me again.". With that, Jackson Nero was escorted out of the Cheif's office, and out of the Police Department. As Jackson walked back towards his car, he heard an officer whisper "Poor son of a bitch.". Jackson clenched his fist, then decided not to cause anymore trouble. He entered his car, and drove off towards home.

------------------------------------------------------

Jackson pulled up to his one story home on Leafturn Street at 2:36 P.M. He stepped out of his car, locked the door, and then headed inside his home. When he opened the door and stepped inside, he smelled the usual smell of his home. Plywood, and old library books. He looked around the front room, remembering how much of a mess it was. Papers were stacked upon other papers and books. Newspapers were scattered among the floor. These twelve years were hell. Jackson walked towards his desk, inside of his room. Here, there were even more papers scattered around. He sat at his desk, and read his current notes:

LOG 2178

It seems that I have finally made my biggest breakthrough ever. I have discovered that this killer, this mysterious killer, is targeting everyone in Phoenecia this winter, in 1982. Everytime that the killer leaves his mark, the two lines with one line going straight down those two at a slant, those lines are adding up. The killer took 196 lives last winter. Adding up all three of the lines 196 times resulted in the number 588. 588 total lines. The known population of Phoenecia is 588 right now. This killer is planning to kill everyone in the town. And I am one of them.

Jackson then stood up from his desk, and ran to the bathroom. He kneeled over and threw up into the toilet. He was extremely stressed. It felt like everything was falling apart for him. After all these years of devoted research, he had no support. Now, like everyone else in Pheonecia, he would die.

This is what Jackson Nero had thought, until an old friend came knocking on his door.