The Artist
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Horror story of a cop trying to catch a killer.
It was all over the news; a serial killer in my home state of Washington! The killer travelled around the western side of Washington, towns like Renton, Seattle, North Bend, and so on. I was watching the news in my apartment; they called him the Evergreen Killer. The police would not divulge the details of the killings; all they could say is that he had an artistic mind. Great I thought; there are tons of artists in Washington. In addition the police revealed that the reason for these killings may have been a period of depression he recently went through; maybe his art being resented by someone he cared for, or not being seen. I noticed that as the police continued on they mentioned artist a lot. This got me curious; I searched for body artists in Washington. Assuming that the killer did some sort of artwork on their body. Then I cross referenced any with medical experience. There was a list of about 180 people. Maybe my list was wrong but I decided to email the list to my friend at the police department. Since the killer had crossed multiple county lines the FBI had come to work with each of the lead departments.
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I had first regarded it a prank. A wrong number. A mistake. But the calls wouldn't stop. He was bothering me, disturbing me-- as though I was a selected target. As the harassment escalated, I began to imagine things. I feared every corner, was scared of the dark, began to hallucinate things which weren't real. Why? Why me? Why was this man calling me? Who was he? I had suspicions. The possibilities were endless. There was nothing anybody could do. He wouldn't stop-- so I had to take things into my own hands. ~*~ He tracked me down. He plotted to execute me. I managed to escape into the woods and beyond. I discovered his hideout, his base and his scheme. I could expose him. I could reveal his identity to the world, and he would surrender. But I made a mistake. I couldn't change my fate.
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