CHAPTER SIXTEEN // SIARA LYNN DUPONT
[WORD COUNT: 1577]
[TOTAL: 41014]• † •
I was in hell. The disturbing and mentally challenging hell, the one where fire was everywhere and prickled at your skin and just burned and charred through the fat and muscle until the bone was left–and then it would attempt to go through the bone only to make it shard into millions of pieces. That was how I felt and it was fucking terrible. The reporters wouldn’t leave me alone and was constantly questioning me if I was emotionally stable to handle this case since I had a panic attack and since my brother died. They kept on assuming that Jacob was my boyfriend and that he was distracting me from the case.
Like that was a reasonable explanation as to why I’m not getting any leads.
I am the abused human body. The fire is everybody bothering me and pestering me for answers that I can’t give and I can’t take it anymore. I feel like–no, I know I am letting everyone down by not even getting a lead and I feel so useless. How can I call myself a detective if there is nothing–literally nothing–to work with?
“Lynn?” Jacob managed to snap me out of the mental vortex I somehow drifted off to. “Here is the second batch of evidence the team managed to get together for you. I haven’t gone through it get but I think this should be useful for you, maybe to get at least a lead?”
I smiled gratefully, hoping that it appeared as a genuine smile instead of a grimace. It was obvious that everyone was waiting for something to work with and I was not helping them at all by giving them nothing. “Thank you, Jobs. I’ll get started on this right away.” Things were awkward between Jacob and I ever since I had a panic attack and I can’t find the reason why. Nonetheless, I pushed the thoughts out of my mind–unfortunately it had become a habit to do things like that–and focused on what was in front of me.
He nodded and walked away, closing the door to my office after giving me a wary look that I pretended not to see. I immediately removed the lid once he was out of sight, desperate for something, anything, only to meet two CD’s and a few pieces of paper. I gently took them out and placed them beside my laptop, setting the box on the floor beside the trash can. I inserted one of the CD’s in my laptop and waited for it to load. In the meantime I looked at the papers that were in the box.
“#1 TAPE RECORDING AND VIDEO #1 - FOOTAGE OF THE LAST TIME THE VICTIMS WERE SEEN ALIVE BY WITNESSES #6576472.”
“#2. TAPE RECORDING AND VIDEO #2 - SECOND FOOTAGE OF THE LAST TIME VICTIMS WERE SEEN ALIVE BY OTHER WITNESSES #6576473.”
I exhaled and immediately felt the nerves jump through my stomach, and I prayed, I literally prayed that I would find something. The anticipation was killing me, and it didn’t help that the CD was only 50% loaded. I tapped my fingers on the desk and refrained from digging them into my palm. I already had scars forming from the other times I brutally dug my nails in my palm.
My cell phone rang. My gaze traveled to the screen and I breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed that it was Lisa. In our home at Alaska, there wasn’t any internet or reception, and if you happened to need any internet or reception then you had to drive to the middle of town where the gas station was. Even there, it was difficult to find out the news since the quality of the TV service was horrible. Lisa probably heard of my panic attack that happened a few days ago, and the latest murders, most likely from the people that have nothing else better to do than gossip.
I sighed and accepted the call. “Hello?”
“Lynn!” Lisa gasped. “Oh gosh, I just heard what happened, is everything okay? How are you? How come you didn’t tell me that you had a panic attack?” I immediately felt a rush of guilt. She was right. I should have told her that I had a panic attack but I didn’t want her to worry. I made her a promise and I bet that she had at least thought once at Alaska how I could let this happen again.Nervously, I dug my fingers into my palm and bit my lip. “Lisa, I’m sorry. Things have been… really difficult for me, you wouldn’t understand. I don’t want you to worry, just try to–try to enjoy yourself in Alaska and don’t worry about me or what’s happening here.” My voice cracked and I inwardly cursed.
“How can I not worry?” She sniffed, and there was loud shuffling. “You are all I have left, besides Bona. I can’t just–just pretend you’re not struggling. I’m not like that. I can’t let you suffer alone. We both know how that feels.”
The guilt transformed to pain as my father and brothers face appeared in my mind. “I… you’re right. I know that lately I haven’t been myself but in some ways I really don’t want you to worry. This is–this is my way of dealing with Mason’s death and I need you to accept that.” The lump in my throat was growing the more I spoke and I found it increasingly difficult to continue speaking without choking and sobbing. Even though I hadn’t admitted it aloud, I missed Mason more than anything in the world, and my father of course. It didn’t help that Lisa left without any notice besides a text message. She was the only family member I had left that I trusted with my life. It hurt that she wasn’t here, but it wasn’t like I could hold that against her.
I found myself flinching when my computer made a noise. The CD was done uploading. Anything Lisa said to me flew from my head. It was now or never, to find out who these victims were last with. Hopefully I can get a visual on their faces and possibly find a lead. “Lisa–Lisa, I’m sorry but I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” Her words drifted through my mind I couldn’t find the will to care in that moment. I was so close, so close, after two weeks of constant brutal torture, these two tapes in front of me would determine absolutely everything and nothing.
With shaking fingers, I bit my lip and pressed play. The screen lit up and the first image that projected across the screen was of the first two victims, German and Pamela. The camera was positioned on the street light on what seemed to be a highway. From my records, these two were a thing for years now. It was such a shame that their lives ended in that brutal way. I grinded my teeth and continued watching the footage, taking note of how they stuck up their thumbs in hopes of a ride. The files didn’t say anything as to where exactly they were headed which was misleading since it could possibly help me find out who was exactly responsible.
Nothing happened for a while so I sped up the footage. Lots of cars passed by and they didn’t bother to stop by and pick up German and Pamela. After watching the footage for such a short time, I had a huge inkling that the camera footage would show who killed these two depending on whether the face who was driving the car would be shown. My heart was racing and I lost the feeling to my lips after chewing on them for so long due to nervousness. Mason’s innocent face popped in my mind and it took a lot of effort to not start bawling at the reminder that I was so close.
There was nothing for a while, even as the video kept on speeding up. After a few torturous seconds the footage finally showed a black car stopping to pick up German and Pamela, who had expressions of relief. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat and made the video go to it’s regular speed. An occasional car passed in the background but I payed no mind to it and instead paused the video after the visual of the license plate was crystal clear. I taste blood on my lips but I ignored it as well–I finally had something! Just to be sure in case I missed anything else, I pressed play while sloppily writing the plate number down on a sticky note. Nothing useful emitted from the video when it finished, besides the couple entering the car but I finally had something, and damn, it felt good.
My fingers were trembling with anticipation as I opened up the program that allowed all basic police officers to check who owned any car with any given plate number. It took a few tries to enter the number since my fingers were shaking so much but when I did, the results almost made me collapse in fear.
Bane Faulkner. Black hair, dark eyes, thin lips and a deadly expression projected across the screen.
But no, it wasn’t his face that had me trembling with fear. It was his last name. Faulkner.
Bona’s last name was Faulkner.
• † •
Wow. I deeply apologize for the (nearly) one month wait! I just started high school and things have been really hectic for me. I can't promise an update soon but I hope that you guys can understand that it might take a while for the next chapters to be posted.
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Amnesia [Completed/Editing]
Mystery / Thriller"TO BE A MURDERER CAN BE QUITE SIMPLE WHEN NO ONE SUSPECTS THE PERSON THAT HAS AMNESIA." mystery/thriller | horror | twisted romance description inside... *Current cover by @aciddaisies_