Obsession || h.s [completed]

23 | stupidity

THE DOVER COUNTY INQUIRER
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Within days of the dissappearance of two teenage girls in Dover, Wisconsin, the police believe they have found what may be a breakthrough in the H.E.S. murder cases. The older girl, Mason Kane, was discovered to not have been abducted with her step sister, whom is still missing.

However, an anonymous letter was sent to the police station, in which the writer claimed to be the well known serial killer, H.E.S.

The FBI are already working to find traces of fingerprints and other particles in the paper that can help identify the sender.

The police, however, have suspicions about the authenticity of the note.

Officer Truing, lead police, said, "All we know at the moment is [the sender] claims he is the killer and is demanding a ransom for the girl, Layla Creed. All we can do is follow what is asked to get her back safely, if she is in fact still alive."

In the letter, the writer also allegedly lists names of future victims, who now have been offered to be taken into FBI custody for protection, but only at their own will.

As for the girl,,the sender claims they are together and she is, in fact, alive and won't be harmed any further if the police cooperate.

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Everything is dark. And my head is foggy.

And all I can think of is darkness.

Because everything is dark.... And my head is foggy.

"Mason... Mason, wake up."

I try to reply, but it's like I've forgotten how to move my lips. It's like they're cemented together, only a bit more tingly. My attempts to respond come out as a soft hum, lacking the strength my entire body seems to be at a loss for.

I feel something warm on either side of my face. It feels familiar. Like something I've felt before. Like a feather. Like something I should know just by the way the soft touch caresses my jaw. Like warm, comforting, and familiar... hands.

"Mason, please open your eyes." The soft yet raspy voice asks. It's familiar, too. And reminds me of a shade of green somewhat close to jade--but more luminescent.

Something brushes against my ceekbone with a soothing repetition. Like a gentle breeze, but more human. Like a cloud but more alive.

Like thumbs brushing softly over my cheeks. Yes, they must be the thumbs of the hands on my jaw.

If only my brain could work.

Am I dead? Am I dreaming?

Another voice scoffs. It's also slightly familiar, but only slightly. It holds a ring to it's tone, and it's slightly whimsical. Whomever it belongs to, they're probaby a good singer. "I didn't think I gave her that much. It's probaly just the fever. Let her sleep it off."

"I told you you leave. Don't make me call your brother to come get you."  If only I could put this familiarity to a face, to a name.

"It's not my fault that you wouldn't call me back or that she was here when I came to talk to you. Let's not forget who dragged her into this, Harry."

Harry...

Suddenly the warm hands are gone. "I haven't told her anything! She's not in this!"