Lakewood: The Next Chapter

Traverse City

Jasmine waited with her fake attorney until the other person returned. A few minutes later, the person entered the secluded house. He set the bags on the table, and Jasmine pulled out the hair dye, shampoo, and scissors.

"What about IDs?" Jasmine asked.

"We'll get the IDs after you change your look. We don't need anyone getting suspicious," the guy told her.

Jasmine gathered the items and went up to take care of her look. Who would suspect a plain Jane?

"After changing things, then what?" The other guy asked.

"Then we blend in with everyone else. Jasmine doesn't realize her days numbered," the guy said. "I don't need suspicions raised when they check to see her not at the mental facility."

"I agree. Thanks to Jasmine and that inept guy, the cops think they got things figured out. I warned you about enlisting people to help," the other guy said.

The killer stood there as the other guy berated him. The killer didn't need to listen to some schmuck scold him for his plans as the guy ranted about the situation, rage-filled the killer as he went into the kitchen. He returned shortly with a knife, walked up to the guy from behind, and shoved it into his back.

The guy let out a gasp as the killer drove the knife deeper into his back. He leaned into the guy's ear and whispered, "Sorry, but I don't need collateral damage, and you're it."

The killer yanked the knife out of the guy's back and moved the blade across the guy's neck, moving it swiftly, slicing his throat. The killer released the guy as he fell to the floor, his body jerking until it stopped.

Next, the killer made his way to the second floor, hearing the shower running. Entering the bathroom, he yanked the shower curtain away as Jasmine screamed, lowering the blade into her quickly. With repetitive motion, the killer stabbed Jasmine ten times before her body fell into the tub. Blood ran to the drain as water cascaded on the body.

The killer turned off the shower, leaving the bathroom and the house. He got into a van and pulled out, driving to his next destination. Making sure no one suspected anything, he tossed the knife into a wooded area, making it out of sight, out of mind.

The truth was the killer isn't dead, but a ghost. He planned on following in his mother's footsteps, lying low until the time was right, then finishing what he started.

********
We returned from our trip to Florida, and it exhausted me. I set my bags down in my bedroom and collapsed onto my bed. Jet lag sucks. I fell asleep only to be awoken an hour later by a massive lump on me.

"Luka," I said with a muffled sound.

"Yes, sweetums," Luka answered.

"Why are you lying, one me?" I asked muffled.

"Because you're so cuddly," Luka mentioned, bouncing on me.

I groaned, then shoved him off me. Luka fell onto the bed next to me, and I looked at him.

"I had a fantastic dream," I mentioned, annoyed.

"Was it us naked? Because that's the best dream ever," Luka remarked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No," I said, shaking my head.

"Well, then that's not the best dream," Luka countered.

"I dreamt that the world was clean and organized," I remarked, grinning.

"That's not a dream, but a horror story. Have you been watching Abby's films again?" Luka asked.

"No," I groaned.