The Boy Who Solved Crimes

17: Scared

Luke

I watched as the blood mixed with the water, turning a ghastly orange-red as it pooled beneath my feet. I stood there, holding back my tears as Ophelia's death replayed in my mind.

Her mouth trying to say my name as she began flowing into unconsciousness. I thought of the pain  she must've been in once she fell into the water from the bridge. I wondered if she realized what had happened as she was pulled by the current or if she believed it all to be some awful nightmare that she'd never awaken from.

I reached for the bar of soap, the only thing that Dooley had provided me as I scrubbed my hands. I disgusted myself, it was ghastly.

I was a murderer. I bit back tears as they disobeyed my commands and began flowing down my face. Hot and sharp. I had hurt two people that I had cared about; destroyed their lives. I had wiped them from existence, all because I was selfish and didn't want to die.

I realized now that once Dooley was done with me, he would undoubtedly kill me too. I had seen too much. I would willingly give myself up. I wanted these horrible thoughts to end, to spiral out of my mind and leave.

I wondered how I would deal with the police questioning me. Especially the dangerous mind-reading detective that I had presumably met once before around my high school.

He had picked me out of the entire crowd of people and chosen to take me in for questioning. I gasped, slapping my hands over my mouth so Dooley couldn't hear me outside the bathroom.

He had a large basement, it was fairly empty except for a chair, table, and some ropes. There was also a tiny glass window that showed the bushes outside. It didn't open.

"Hey, what's taking so long in their?!" Dooley's voice was loud and clear as he pounded his fist against the door.

"Almost done. I need clothes." I responded.

He unlocked the door and barged into the bathroom as I screamed loudly, trying to cover any revealing parts of myself as he tossed clothes onto the floor and stared at me quizzically, makigg by me even more uncomfortable.

He approached me and held a needle in his hand.

"Don't move or this will hurt more than it has to." He said, his eyes blank as my mind raced a million miles an hour. He stabbed the needle into my arm and injected whatever was in it.

"Hurry up kid. We have a lot to do." And with that, he left the bathroom as I felt my entire body convulse. I slid onto the floor of the bathtub and hit my head on the back, screaming.

I kept shaking, wondering if whatever he had injected me with would kill me.  He had me kill two random girls who could easily be blamed on me. Then he kills me to get rid of any connection and liability. It was a smart plan and maybe I was a stupid fool.

I felt trapped, choked and unable to do anything about it. The demonic nightmares kept replaying in my mind as I stood back up, shut off the water and air dried for a couple minutes since he hadn't given me a towel. I suppose he wasn't trying to kill me then.

I was too afraid to ask what he had injected me with. I quickly put on the pants and shirt he had tossed carelessly on the floor. They were a bit tight, but beggars can't be choosers.

"Finally." He said, his smile wide as he  studied me. "How do you feel?"

"I feel the same."

Stupid boy.

"What?" I asked, wondering if I had imagined what he had said.

"I didn't say anything." He responded. I was too afraid to argue with him. Too afraid to mention that I had heard him call me stupid.

"Come with me, kid." He called as I followed him up the small flight of stairs into his main living room, leaving behind the creepy basement that had a shower but no toilet in its bathroom.

"If you feel any different in the next few days, let me know. You have my number on the burner phone. If any police approach you searching for help on their investigation, tell them you won't talk without a lawyer. Keep your mind clear and watch out for that Detective Aaron Knight. Got it?" He asked.

"Yes, sir." I said, wondering if I could ask him what his entire plan was. Hoping he would see me as an ally now that I had done his bidding. But when had it become so important for me to want to be viewed as anything in this crazy man's eyes.

"Tomorrow, you will go to school, then I will pick you up. Tell your parents that you're visiting a friend. You will return to them at night to prevent suspicions. If they're questioned by the police, they will be a liability and you know what that means." He grinned, his threat subtle, but present as I gulped audibly. I knew exactly what he meant and I was too afraid to imagine it.

I took a deep breath, it felt like a frog was caught in my throat and I couldn't talk.

"Very well, clean your car and head home. I will dispose of your messy kill and burn your clothes." He said, I wondered if he would actually burn them. He would just as easily keep them and use them to have the police target me later. After all, Ophelia's blood was all over my shirt.

"Yes, sir." I responded, stiff and struggling to speak. I stood up quickly, knowing that this was in no way freedom. I wondered if running away from this man would work; but knowing him this far showed me he would track me easily. He would target me, especially now that he had my bloodied clothes.

"And, kid, take a proper shower when you get home. You reek."

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