A Love to Kill

Part Seven

Rodger's freaking out. And more cuteness between Rodger and Dawn <3. Trying to decide how long this should be. I want it to be a short story, yet I don't want to rush it or accidently leave out anything

It was hardly noon and already Rodger's day was ruined. He couldn't stop wondering if they knew something about the investigation that would link the murders to him. Were they out by the old tree now, dogs barking as they smelled the decayed flesh? Were the bodies being brought up? Could his fingerprints last through decay and earth? If they could he was sunk right then. They had his fingerprints already from his parent's deaths. He was stupid to let them do that-the police didn't even have a permit? Why did he willingly give them anything? Because he didn't want to seem guilty. Rodger growled to himself. What if they somehow got a warrant to search his house? Where could he hide that damning knife so they couldn't find it?

Rodger took a slow breath. He was letting his hysteria take over. Of course his fingerprints wouldn't last. And they didn't have a clue where the bodies were. What were they going to go-take dogs everywhere to smell down the victims? The area was too big. He was panicking over nothing. There was no way to link him to the murders. And Houston hadn't shown the slightest suspicion toward him. Houston was just desperate for any sort of clue.  He knew Houston would approach him eventually, because it was his parents that started this string of murders. It was only natural for Houston to retrace the steps and ask Rodger about the details, because no-one else had any sort of connection to the murders. Rodger looked up at the ceiling, watching his fan spin around, slicing through the air.

Maybe after he killed Dawn Rodger should move. But he couldn't hope to afford it-not on his salary. He was living on his parents' and grandma's inheritance and even that was slipping though his fingers. Everything around here was becoming more expensive as the rich snatched up all the suburb homes, transforming the little dull town into a leisurely spectacle for the wealthy.

Rodger sighed, and walked into his room, pacing, thinking. Was there any sort of evidence that could link him to the victims? He had moved the bodies. Did they know where he killed them? Maybe, if they knew about the area the girls were in last. Rodger had never bothered to clean the spot he stabbed them, so if they saw the blood they would have. But that didn't give them very many hints-everyone knew that bullshit from CSI where they somehow find a piece of hair or a little flake of skin never actually happened in reality. In reality, murders were incredibly difficult to solve. Especially when they were as random as his, and there was no-one to describe what he might look like.  So there really was nothing that could link him to the murders. Not right now. But he knew that the compulsion would strike again, even after he had killed Dawn, and he was too weak to ignore it. The bodies would pile up, and there would be more of a chance that he would make a mistake. He probably would make a mistake-a fatal one.

And then it would be time. Rodger would finally end it all, and fling himself into the endless abyss in a swirling array of red. He sighed. Sure, he wanted to end it all, he wanted to be a part of such beauty himself, but then again he didn't want nonexistence.

"I knew this day would come." Rodger muttered to himself with a sigh. He just thought he'd be ready when the time came, that he'd be sick of life. But why did he want to keep breathing? He pondered the question for a few moments. What was so fantastic about his existence that made him want to keep living it? He sighed in a low growl as he realized it wasn't life he wanted. It was her. She's screwing with my head, Rodger thought in despair. She made death's loveliness pale in comparison to hers. He stole a disgusted look toward the computer. He could feel it pull him.

You damn witch. He thought. You have me in your spell. But, like the weak person he was, he checked his email. As he assumed, and hoped, there was one in his mailbox from Dawn.