Phobia

Prologue

"In the city of Manhattan, New York, investigators roam the streets in search of the man behind the mask, who stalks Manhattan killing only target victims all connecting to one thing. Investigators say the serial killer studies his victims and uses their phobia as a method of killing them. Police says if you see him due to the description given dial the number below the screen: 911. Witnesses say he's about 6'2", wears a plastic mask, looks to be made of a thin layer of white paint and dresses in all black. Please be aware that this man is armed and dangerous. Lock your doors, windows and be alarm by any sudden movement."

The TV begins to flicker in and out; the light in the ceiling was dimming so it made it difficult for him to see Tracey Morgan, the 9 O'clock news reporter. Tracey was blonde haired, and wore a thin brush of eye shadow and black eye liner, her eye lashes was long and pointed up. She was 28 years old and had two twin daughters, Tracey was a dark complexion almost, she inherited genetically black and Cuban, due to her lack of acceptance Tracey pretty much argued her race. The TV stopped flicking after a couple of adjustments. Michael was more of a gentleman in many ways unreasonable, he had matters and conducted himself very properly. Michael was 28 years of age and very often he watched the daily news at 9. The TV went to another breaking story of a kid gone missing. He grabbed the remote control and cut off the black Toshiba TV, he stood up and stretched; walks over to his victim, who's been unconscious for almost two hours now and kneel down to look him in the face, Timothy was his victim's name. Timothy Giovanni Cascade the third. He was 18years old; just 10 years younger than Michael, he had long brown hair which draped over his massive broad shoulders, his face was pale which occurred the minute he began losing a surplus of blood. His outfit was dirty and ripped and stained from various attempts of struggles. A single light swung back and forth above Timothy, and the rest of the room was pitch black and gave a horrific feeling. Timothy's eyes slowly open an inch or two. His vision was vaguely. He groaned some, trying to sum up enough energy to release himself from the tight ropes that held him stiffly to the metal chair. Water dripped from a crack in the ceiling onto the floor. The room became an echo of metal tools; Timothy forces his mouth to speak but he soon realizes his voice is gone. The swinging light hovered just 6 inches above his head; he looks at Michael clueless and baffled by the predicament he's in he begins to cry. He knows where and how this ends.

 Chapter: 1

My name is Timothy Giovanni Cacasde the third and I’m 18years old. It was in the middle of spring: March, I was just coming from a victory game across country. I was proud to be captain of the Yankees for the New York College League. In fact I could still recall the day I tried out. I was walking through the gym room crossing my fingers, hoping I would make the team. Next thing I know after two successful games I became the new captain. I couldn’t help but feel the anguish hatred that might’ve consumed Bobby Hampton, former captain, but I didn’t care. I was born in Mississippi, Alabama and moved to Manhattan, New York when I was 16. Bobby was a colored boy; I don’t think his opinion and recessive feelings mattered to a man of my ethnicity. My father was the greatest police officer there was, I’ll be damn if he didn’t teach me better than letting a color boy cheat me out of what’s rightfully mines.  I sat on the metal stool, about to have a drink with the boys, at the Bemelmans Bar when I noticed a strange looking guy across from the bar; he was sitting quietly in the dark corner. He had majority of his face covered. I focused back on my drink and then I noticed the guy in the corner getting up and walking out. A lady in an apple green dress walks in; she has red long curls that touch her hips and she has on silver jewelry. I watched her sway erotically  up to the bar counter and order a whole case of beer, I watched from a distance and then the guys and I came up to her. “Hey there pretty lady?” “What’s your name baby, looking for a good time?” I began to laugh and without conscious grabbed her wrist. She yanks away from me and slaps me the bartender warns me to leave the lady alone; I suppose I had one too many to drink, I keep at it. The guys look at me laughing uncontrollable as they say to the lady, “Hey, how much to show my friend a good time, huh?” the lady gets up and turns to leave, but Ayden and Hicks stands in her way, the lady tries to go around and I corner her, I slide my hands up her waist and grope her one of her breasts, she pushes me off and began to groan, Ayden is squeezing her wrist and no one in the bar is helping her. I grabbed one of her beers and pop it open, then I drink some and tried to kiss her but she was refusing. Hick looks at me and starts laughing again then the lady knees him the groaning, Hick falls giving the lady enough time to escape our trap. I found it funny for her to be helpless and relying on someone in the bar to help. I sat back on the stool and finished the bottle of beer; she left the rest of the beer on the counter. Hicks get up and sit on the stool next to me, “THAT BITCH!” he says, still angry. Ayden is consumed by laughter and I joined him. Twenty minutes later the bar doors swung open and three big guys came in, they looked to some bikers. Me and the boys settle our drinks and was about to leave, then one of the guys walked up to Ayden and grabbed his collar calling him a sissy.  He tosses him back into the counter where Ayden breaks a bottle of red wine and charges at the biker, and then the other two grabs him and one body slammed him to the wooden floors. Hick stood clueless as I broke a beer bottle also charging towards one of the dudes, I managed to cut one biker but I was taken down by the other, two minutes into the brawl a gunshot ranged out and people started to scream. The fighting stopped and the bartender held a barrel shotgun, he warned us to leave his bar and never come back, then he fired two more warning shots, “Go on and get, I’m only giving you 5 seconds before the next bullet cause you to end up in the morgue!” Ayden and Hick stumbled out of the bar and I grabbed my coat, then I left. I didn’t see the bikers leave but I did see the lady in the apple green dress. Ayden and Hick offered me a ride, but still angry, I refused. I walked into a dark alley and the alley lights made it a little easy to see, the street smelled of dead rats and urine. I fumbled alongside the buildings and rested.