Wandering Ends A Flash Fiction Collection

The Lakeside Slasher

Visions of faceless people danced in his nightmares.  Victor woke in a cold sweat, shivering under his drenched comforter.  For a week straight these recurring nightmares had haunted him.  He knew the faceless figures but did not understand how.  It was three-thirty in the morning and he had to be to work at five; more sleep was out of the question. 

Victor floundered out of bed and staggered to the bathroom.  Relieving his overfilled bladder as he went back over his nightmare.  The ones in his dream were dancing like they were being controlled by puppet strings, singing an eerie chant, "You can never go back, never go back to sleep.  You can never take back, never take back what you did."  A tingle ran down his spine as his bladder finished emptying. 

Victor, being rattled by his nightmare, nicked himself several times while shaving but was finally ready to go to work.  His tie was straight, his hair was combed, and despite looking wearied he was feeling fresh. 

Victor arrived at work to tragic news.  His co-worker, Steve, had been killed by the serial killer dubbed The Lakeside Slasher.  Steve was his tenth victim with no end in sight.  Victor was shook by the news.  Steve had three young kids and a wife.  He was also the most promising first year lawyer in their firm. 

Victor was to be in court for the first time, with his first client in two days.  He did his best to stay composed throughout the day; he had to stay focused on his client's case.  Managing to make it through the day, Victor, went for a stiff drink, or three, after he left the office. 

When he awoke, sometime in the middle of the night, he was in an unfamiliar apartment with a naked body lying next to him.  She had straw blonde hair and the sexiest bare butt he had ever seen.  Victor had to piss so he crept cautiously out of the bed.  He did not want to disturb this beauty's sleep.  He nearly tripped on his own pants on his way to the bathroom but stealthily kept his balance. 

Victor could not remember meeting anyone, nor could he remember going home with anyone.  He tried with every ounce of recall, to remember last night, but it just would not come to him.  Feeling like he had not slept at all during the early part of the night, he sneaked out of the lovely ladies apartment so he could get a few more hours of sleep in his bed; he left his phone number behind in case she wanted to meet up again. 

When Victor made it home, he dropped to the bed expecting to crash hard.  After an hour, he realized sleep was a luxury he would not have.  He felt tired but he could not keep his eyes closed long enough to fall asleep.  Instead of trying to go back to bed, he clicked on the news.  The Lakeside Slasher had struck again.  They did not give out too many details but the killers trademark was at the crime scene.  Victor started thinking about Steve as the story droned on in the background.  How can they not catch this guy?  Victor thought. 

Victor, at work again, was much more disheveled then yesterday.  His hair was all over the place, his eyes bore dark circles and were bloodshot to the point the whites of his eyes were pure red, and his tie was crooked with a loose and messy knot.  The senior partner, Laura, told him to go home, he was going to be useless to them.  He obliged, feeling every bit the part he looked, and headed home.  He forgot his briefcase with all of his files in it anyways, so nothing was going to be accomplished either way. 

Victor stopped at McDonald's on the way home to get a couple double cheeseburgers.  He was hoping some food would wake his brain up.  He was desperately trying to remember his little romp last night.  On his way home he inhaled the sandwiches, while replaying what he could remember from the previous night.  After his third drink everything went blank.  The next thing he could remember was waking up next to the blonde beauty. 

Victor, eventually, made his way home.  As soon as he walked in the door he headed straight for his bed.  He plopped down belly first, closed his eyes, and prepared for a nap.  Thirty minutes of laying there with his eyes closed, still trying to catch that elusive sleep, he decided to get up to go study the files in his briefcase. 

He popped the briefcase open and made a horrifying discover.  A human face was looking up at him with a note stapled to its forehead.  The note read: Don't forget to put me away.  Immediately, he picked up his cell and dialed 9-1-1 fearing he was next on The Lakeside Slashers list. 

While he was waiting for the police to show up, he ran to his gun safe.  He felt vulnerable and afraid.  He trembled as he tried to enter the safe's code, causing him to have to retry several times before unlocking it.  The safe finally clicked open.  Victor let out a very audible gasp as he looked in his safe.  Ten body-less faces were gawking at him.  What the fuck!  Victor thought.  Each face was hung with care.  Terror filled him as his eyes flickered and shook in their sockets.  In his shock he was blacking out.  As his eyes were dimming police lights began flickering outside of his window. 

Victor came to after several hours of a shock induced blackout.  He was still in his apartment.  He looked around his room to see three police officer's bodies on the floor.  He rolled the first body over letting out a scream as he looked into its dead eyes.  Blood, muscle, and bone were the only things left, besides those cold, staring into nothingness eyes.  He ran to his safe to find all of the newly skinned faces hanging neatly in it.  His heart thudded, his mind ceased comprehension, as he let out a mad mans cackle.