The Escape
“Frenchville was always a quiet little town. One of Ohio’s top paper producing towns. The crime rate was very low. Only on murder in the town’s history. Only one murderer, too. However, this murder was nothing like the others.
It was the late 1950s. Walter and Elma Valdemere were a quiet young couple who lived on 837 Walnut Street. Never came outside much. They were madly in love, though. Whenever they came outside, they were always together. Elma gave Walter a hug and a kiss before he went to work everyday at the paper factory.
That was all before Mr.Valdemere found out something he should not have. When he came home from work early one day, he caught his wife kissing Mr.Potter from down the street. Something in Mr.Valdemere snapped that day. He rushed in the room and grabbed Mr.Potter by the throat and slammed him through the old floorboards down into the basement. That’s when he grabbed Elma and brought her to the paper factory. He through her into the paper press. The police caught him and put him on trial. He was charged with murder and attempted murder due to the fact that Mr.Potter was just paralyzed from the waist down, not dead. They knew Walter killed Elma but they still didn’t know how or where her body was;. That was all until paper from the factory started to come out a little too tough and leathery than it should have been. That’s when they realized what he did. However, after interrogating Mr.Valdemere, it was deemed that he was mentally insane and was not safe to be in a regular prison . He had to be put in Frenchville’s own ‘Institution for the Mentally Insane’. And that brings us to today, November 15th, 1983.” said the captain.
“Yeah, Cap, we know the story. Why are you telling it to us? That old nut has been locked in the crazy house for years now,” said one of the officers.
“Well, because it brings us to our newest case. Last night, old Mr.Potter’s house was burnt down, with him in it. It looks like arson. So, we checked in with the crazy bin, and yes, Valdemere has escaped.”
All of the eyes in the Frenchville police station gre very big with fear.
“That’s what I thought,” said the captain.
“Alright, well what do we do?” asked a young-looking, blonde officer.
“We’re gonna split up and search this town. However, we’re gonna have two groups that are gonna have to consist of some very brave men. They’ll be checking out our two biggest leads. They’re the old Valdemere house and the paper factory. So, any volunteers?”
“Eight of the veterans on the police force raised their hands.
“...... six, seven, eight men. Including menine and since I want two groups of five, I need one more guy.”
The room was still until a hand in the back of the room went up. It was Officer Goreman, the young-looking, blonde officer.
“Goreman? Alright, pretty brave for a rookie. You’ll be with my group at the Valdemere house. You five will go to the factory,” the captain said as he counted out five veterans on the left side of the meeting room.
“Let’s move out,” said the captain.
Young officer Goreman was shaking with fear as he rode in the squad car down to 837 Walnut Street. They arrived and got out. The captain continued to give directions and orders of how they would search the house. However, Goreman was too occupied looking for the dangerous old man to listen.
“Alright, lets go,” said the captain.
Goreman followed the rest of the officers through the weed-filled, unkept yard. As one of the older officers broke down the door, dust from inside the ancient house went everywhere.
“Well this is pretty dirt-AAAAHHHHHH!!!” screamed one of the officers as he was pulled into darkness before his sentence could be finished.
“Where’d he go-OOOOOOO!?!” screamed another as he was hauled off. One by one in a matter of thirty seconds. All except Goreman, who managed to stay hidden in a dark corner. As he quietly hyperventilated, he found his flashlight. As he shined his light around the room, he potted the back of a bright, orange jumpsuit running up the stairs. He pursued and ran after him.
“Stop! I dont want to hurt you! I have a weapon! Please come peacefully or force will be used!” pleaded the officer.
Valdemere wouldn’t stop. He sprinted into the room at the end of the hallway and slammed the door. As Goreman got to the door, he slowed down. He twisted the doorknob but it was locked.”If this was a movie,” he thought, “this is where the creepy music would play.”
Goreman kicked down the door and ran into the room. The old man tackled him out of nowhere. They struggled for a few moments before Valdemere wound up on top. He slammed his fists down, aiming at the officers face, only for the officer to dodge it each time. The floorboards started to break under the force of his fists. That’s when Officer Goreman heard the floorboards beneath him cracking as he fought to dodge blows.
That’s when the floor gave way. The officer, using all his strength, turned in midair to put the psychopath under him as they fell through the second floor and then directly through the hole in the first floor, where Mr.Potter had been slammed through previously, and into the basement. As soon as they hit the basement floor, Valdemere’s body went limp. Officer Goreman checked his pulse to realize he was only unconscious. He put his handcuffs on the man and carried him to the car.He then radioed the officers at the factory and let them know that he had been caught.
As soon as they got there, they started searching the house for the missing officers, finding them unconscious and okay in a locked room. Everyone was okay including Walter Valdemere, who spent the rest of his life in a maximum security cell at the mental institution.. Goreman was awarded for his bravery with a medal and Frenchville went back to being a quiet, little town with a very dark history.
By Clinton Ransom
