A Trail of Murders

Chapter X

"You know what I find funny, no, hilarious?" Myles asked, walking around the motel room.

    "What?" I asked with a tired sigh, picking at the blanket upon my lap as I watched the maniac pace the small room.

    "I've killed four people in the past week, and made it all the way to the border of Nevada and California, and the pathetic FBI agents haven't even gotten close to stopping me. It's pathetic, really." Myles said disappointedly, shaking his head as he turned off the TV with a grunt.

    You're a sick fucking bastard. I hope you rot in hell. I opened my mouth, wanting to comment when nausea suddenly rose in my throat and I ran to the bathroom, emptying my guts into the toilet. God, i've been sick for a week. When will the vomiting stop? I rinsed out my mouth and flushed the toilet before returning to the bedroom, watching with boredom as Myles paced about.

    "I don't know what to do, they're just so stupid! I mean, what should I do? Leave a clue? Perhaps. Kill someone higher up that will get more attention? Maybe. GOD! I just need those fucking idiots to get their heads together. This cat and mouse game isn't entertaining at all!" He growled, punching the wall hard enough to leave a small dent.

    "They're going to charge us for that." I commented, staring at the dent and shaking my head.

    "Shut up Elouise, before I cut out your tongue." Myles threatened, pointing a knife that he had in his pocket, at me.

    Despite silently screaming at him, I crossed my arms and shut my mouth, staring at the blank wall. I hate this. I hate him. I want to go home. I want out. I would rather die than spend another day with him, but he refuses to kill me. I've even tried to off myself, but each time he foils my plan and punishes me severely, calling me weak. So what if I'm weak. I'm human.

    "I need to kill. Come on, get in the car Elouise. We're going hunting." Myles exclaimed, grabbing his duffle bag and heading to the front door.

    I reached down and picked up my jacket before glancing at him with hesitation written on my features. Myles's eyes narrowed at me in a threatening manner. I slowly walked after him, dread filling my body. I hate how he feels the need to drag me along every single time. He only does it to scare me, and because it arouses him to have someone watch him work. We got into the car and drove around Henderson city. We finally came across a man in a smart business suit leaving the courthouse. Myles zeroed in on him, reading his body language.

    "Hmm, prosecutor... perfect."

    We followed him until later that night when he was outside his apartment building, all alone. Myles attacked him from behind with a hammer, knocking him unconscious and tossing him into the back of the car. We drove back to the motel and Myles ran inside to check us out. Ten minutes passed before we were driving again, into yet another forrest. By the time the prosecutor had awoken, we had set up in an isolated clearing with a tent and sleeping bags, and he was chained to a tree.

    The man immediately began to shout for help, so Myles sent me to shut him up. That was my job, getting the victims to trust me. It made it more fun for Myles, to watch the pain of betrayal in their eyes when they saw me working side-by-side with their murderer. I walked out to the man, gently shushing him.

    "What's your name?" I asked softly.

    He stared at me for a moment before declaring me harmless enough to answer. "Lance Raley. Please help me!" He begged.

    I winced and tried to get him talking. "Are you from here? Are you an American or a foreigner?"

    "Nevada? No. I'm from Washington State, and I'm one hundred percent American. Please, you have to help me get out of here. You look like a sweet girl!"

    "Do you like animals? I do. My favourite animal is either a tiger, lion, or wolf. They are all such majestic creatures and-" I started rambling before Myles cut me off by throwing a knife into Lance's left leg.

    "Shut up Elouise. Go get my gun." He demanded.

    I did as he asked, bringing the gun out to him. He wouldn't take it, simply gesturing for me to shoot Lance in the other leg. I hesitated for a moment before raising the gun. I couldn't deal with another torture session. Apologizing with my eyes, I shot Lance in the right leg, squeezing my eyes shut with self-hatred when I heard his screams. Myles swooped in and planted a kiss on my lips, telling me how proud he was of how far I'd come. I simply pushed away from him and ran into the tent, crying. I hate myself. I've given into him. I truly am, a willing participant. Oh god, what have I become? I'm a monster.

    Tears soaked my shirt and the sleeping bag beneath me. I could hear Myles thrusting a blade into Lance's skin, each time making me wince and my stomach drop. I don't know why I continue to ask for the name of the victim, it makes it so much harder for me to ignore their pain, which isn't something that I want to do, but I have to do it, or I won't survive. I don't know how I've managed to stay alive this long with a psychopath as terrible as Myles. The urge to vomit randomly hit me out of nowhere, overwhelming me, and I barely made it a foot away from the tent before I spewed my guts all over the floor. Myles groaned from behind me and began to make noises of disgust and unhappiness.

    "Again? Seriously Elouise. Get your body under control."

    I couldn't respond. I was too busy trying to clean up my mess and clear my mouth of the foul taste. When I could barely taste and smell the vomit, I turned my attention back to Myles who stood there, waiting for me with a bored look on his face. In one of his hands was a bloody knife, and the other was a... box? His left foot tapped impatiently, and I could see the anger on his face at being interrupted during his fun.

    "Here." He said, throwing a small box at me.

    I barely caught it in my hands. It was small, cardboard and had a purple-white duo coloring. I slowly turned it over and read the label to myself. New Choice: Pregnancy Test. My eyes widened in horror. Oh God no! I looked up at him, beginning to object, but he simply walked up and squeezed my throat, ordering me to "just take the goddamn test". I walked away from Myles and Lance and read the instructions carefully.

    Remove the test from the pouch. Immerse the strip into the urine with the arrow end pointing towards the urine. Do not immerse past the "Max" line. Take the strip out after 3 seconds and lay the strip flat on a clean, dry, non-absorbent surface. Wait for colored bands to appear. Depending on the concentration of hCG in the test specimen, positive results may be observed in as short as 40 seconds. However, to confirm negative results, the complete reaction time (5 minutes) is required. Do not read results after 10 minutes.

    I carefully and quickly followed the instructions, positive that this was stupid and that it would be a negative result. I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited for the colored bands to appear. One Minute. Two Minutes. Three Minutes. Four Minutes. Five Minutes. Two colored bands appeared on the stick. I checked the packaging to see what it meant, and stopped breathing.

    "No, no this can't be possible. This can't be happening to me. No, no no no no!" I cried, starting to hyperventilate.

    I felt my eyes roll back into my head as my body feinted, unable to cope with the result. How could this have happened? What am I going to do now? This is terrible. I can't for the life of me believe it.

    I'm pregnant with a serial killer's baby.