A+Game+of+Mafia

The Mafia Game **Chapter 1**

In the quiet town of Greenbury, all was fine. Why wouldn’t it be? With a tiny town of barely five-hundred people, nothing much happened.

Natalie Schmidt sighed at her computer. She worked at the news center in Greenbury. It was a hard thing to do: write about news when there was none. Natalie shook her head. If only something big would happen. Something huge!

Angela Caetta pressed a button and the coffee machine sounded with noise. The white, frothy gently laid itself on top of the latte and Angela expertly capped it and rung the bell and slid it down the counter to her employee. “Vincent,” she called. Vincent Villacorta stood up from his seat and retrieved his drink. “Thanks, Angela,” he said. “No problem.” “So did you hear a new restaurant is being built near the gas station?” Vincent asked. “No. Interesting.” It was sad what was considered interesting in a small town. “Stuff is really picking up here. I wonder if anything else will happen.”

“All right, it will be off in four to six weeks,” Dr. Lisa Bok said to the little boy. The boy and his mother walked out of the Lisa’s office after saying their thanks, the boy checking out his new green cast on his arm. The nurse, Stella Aghakian, rolled her eyes. “Did you hear how the kid broke his arm?” “No,” Lisa said. “How?” “He tripped over a sprinkler and hit his arm on a fire hydrant,” scoffed Stella. Lisa barely stifled the laugh. “He’s only eight.” “I’m just saying.” Stella left and passed the other nurse, Naira Demirchian, in the hallway. “Hey, Naira.” “Hi,” she responded. Naira turned to Lisa. “Dr. Hyun wants to see you.” “Okay,” Lisa responded. //Ugh//, she thought. //Why is today so busy?//

Mr. Ted DeVirgilis sat in the teacher’s lounge with two of his colleagues. Kristeen Shamas was ranting about a kid in her class who never shut up, and to make it worse, always got the answer wrong, but never admitted he got it wrong. And she taught math. The counselor, Nicole Szalay-Fiumani, Miss S for short, was the complete opposite. She sat with her hands folded in a quiet manner, listening to Kristeen. Mr. DeVirgilis, the principal of the Greenbury Schools, looked at the two. He laughed to himself. One out-going and always talking; the other calm and listening. Good friends always had the oddest of combinations.

Hannah Erickson listened to Cailey Stevenson, who owned the ice cream shop, gossip as Hannah cut her hair. Pieces of chocolate hair drifted to the floor at the rhythm of the scissors. “And did you hear about Sheila?” Cailey went on. “No,” Hannah said. She could actually care less. “Well,” Cailey said, too excited to notice the dryness in Hannah’s voice, “I heard that she really left Greenbury because of…” Hannah caught a glimpse of Luke, her business neighbor, bargaining with a stubborn customer through the window. Luke Yee owned the electronics store, and he was not about to lower his price because a certain customers didn’t want to pay a fair price for a camera. Hannah laughed to herself. She loved this town. It was so peaceful.

Mitchell Aslo, Abhi Varma, and Jeremy Chong sat in the police station. They were relaxed and happy, not a single piece of paperwork in the world today. No criminals to catch, no problems to solve; today was just a nothing day. That was all going to change tomorrow.

Alexia Hatun sat in her library. She flipped the page of her book and lazily looked up at the group of high school kids at the table. They were whispering and giggling. //Who cares?// Alexia thought. //Let them talk.// Alexia turned back to her book.

William Dougall sat at a table in Zakieh Alahmad’s restaurant, Alan Chung, the owner of the grocery store, seated on the other side. William, who was in the computer business, stabbed at the piece of chicken with his fork. “This place is so boring!” exclaimed Alan. “The restaurant?” asked William. “No,” he said. “This whole town. Nothing happens. It’s just the same thing, over and over, each day. It’s so boring and tedious.” “Then move away,” shrugged William. “I like this town. It’s quiet.” “Whatever,” Alan said as he rolled his eyes. He laughed as he saw Abigail Berry through the window, running to her car. Most likely she was rushing back to the theatre she owned: the most packed and populated place in town, almost 24-7. “She’s always so busy.”

Sally sat at the nature center, her head resting in her palm. She was bored out of her mind. Today was a slow day at work, slower than usual. A total of one person had come to hike. So she had signed them in, they had headed off, and since then, she had been stuck there, all alone, with nothing to do. “Please!” she yelled to no one. “Something happen before I die of boredom!”

Roy sat in the fire house. Why did he half a job as a firefighter? Because it was free money. In the last five years, a total of two fires had broken out over the town. That’s it. So Roy just got money for doing absolutely nothing, most of the time. And that’s the way he liked it.

Alexia Hatun sat in her house. The day was over and she was tired. She looked at the clock: 11:30. She would have to get up early tomorrow for work. She should probably go to bed. She heaved herself off her couch and stood up. Her telephone rang. She walked over to it and picked it up. “Hello?” All that came to her from the other end was breathing. “Hello?” she repeated. “Who is this?” Breathing. And then hang up. Annoyed, Alexia replaced the phone, only for it to ring a second later. “Hello?” The same breathing. “Can you hear me, because I can hear you breathing?” Louder breathing. “Okay, this is getting annoying. I’m hanging up.” And then came a creepy giggle, like a witch or goblin, and the person hung up. Alexia looked at the phone funny. “Freaks.” It rang again. “What do you want?” The same old breathing. Someone at her door knocked obnoxiously loud. “Hold on,” she told the person on the other line. “You’re not the only one who’s being annoying tonight.” She walked to her door as the pounding continued. “I’m here, I’m here,” she said through the door as she worked the lock. “You can stop now.” They knocked on. Alexia turned the doorknob and flung open the door. Red with frustration, and anger, she yelled, “What?” And the person unloaded the gun into her.

The police found Alexia Hatun’s body the next morning. Curious and watching eyes peaked from windows and doors, and over shoulders to get a peek at what happened. The headline in the paper read: Murder! The whole town was in unrest. No longer was quiet Greenbury, quiet. But it was only one murder, right? But there will be many more to come.

Harrison Pyros watched the drama unfold from his house up on the hill. He was a secluded sort of man, one that couldn’t stand being around the others. He looked at his paper. Murder. And he knew deep in his gut that there was more madness and chaos to come.

**Chapter 2** “We have absolutely nothing!” yelled Mitchell Aslo as he slammed down the files of papers. “No fingerprints, no DNA, no suspects, no nothing. Nothing!” “Did anyone hear anything?” asked Abhi Varma. “No one heard anything. There must have been a silencer on the gun or something,” Mitchell said. “So we have nothing? At all?” Jeremy asked, almost frantic. “No.” Mitchell said and shook his head. “Nothing at all.”

“Nasty business, this murder is,” Abbi Berry commented. Zoie Telkamp handed Abbi her dry cleaning. Zoie owned the dry cleaners in Greenbury. “Yeah, I heard,” she said in her quiet voice. “I heard that the police have absolutely nothing on Alexia’s murder.” Abbi gossiped on. “She was my next door neighbor. Just shot on her front porch last and I was sound asleep. Right across from my house.” She shuddered. “It’s scary.” “Quite,” Zoie mumbled. She wasn’t one for conversation. “Well,” Abbi said cheerily, “see you later, Zoie. I have to get back to my theatre.” She left and Zoie felt relieved that Abbi left since she didn’t want to here anymore talk about the murder. Zoie shook her head. A murder in a small town is just a curse. A tragedy and it is relived in the endless stories and gossip told around town.

Dalia Farazdaghi tried to control the mounting chaos that was occurring inside her pet store. Dogs barked. Cats yowled. Birds screeched. The only thing that was quiet was the blonde Labrador puppy lying down in its large containment. Dalia, taking a break from the futile effort to calm the animals, knelt down to the dog and scratched it behind its ears. “You’re going to your new home today,” she said and the puppy looked up at her with its large dog eyes. Hannah Erickson was due any minute to pick up her new dog. Dalia turned her attention back to her store, which was in a complete uproar. “It’s like they know something bad happened.”

Adam Gross worked to reorganize his Hard Ware Shop. His employee, Anthony Catello, sat back on a chair. “What are you doing?” yelled Adam. “Get to work.” Anthony groaned. “Fine. Why do you have to reorganize this place anyway?” “Because it looks nice,” Adam said without looking up. “I’d rather be over at Frost and Main. Did you hear what happened?” “Everyone heard what happened. Librarian was shot. Big whoop.” “So you don’t even care?” asked Anthony. Adam shrugged. “Didn’t know her very well. Do you expect me to stay at home sobbing because someone I could care less about was murdered?” “You sound so mean,” commented Anthony. “Sorry if I’m a little ticked off when my worker won’t work.” “Okay, okay. I getting to work,” grumbled Anthony.

Matthew Neumann looked down the street from Alan Chung’s grocery store. With two paper bags in his hand, he looked mysteriously at the deathly silent library. He walked towards his car. He should be getting back to his Auto Shop. He needed to work on Lisa’s car. He wouldn’t have it finished until tomorrow, so he’d better get started on it as soon as he could. But he couldn’t get Alexia’s death out of his head. Why would you want to kill a librarian?

Emma Shannon silently watched from her modest book store as the school kids left Greenbury Schools for the day. Kristeen chatted with Nicole outside the school as kids passed by, on the way to their homes. Kristeen laughed. They were obviously not talking about Alexia Hatun’s murder. That’s all Emma had been hearing today. Customers with all the same news. Did you hear about the murder? Did you hear about the murder? Emma wanted to scream. But she didn’t. She was a good manager and shop owner and didn’t scream at her customers. But ironically, something good did come out of the murder. There had been a spike in the crime fiction and murder mystery books.

Gregory Ohanian was in a daze. This was the third meal he had messed up today and his boss, Zakieh Alahmed, was about to burst. “Come on, Greg!” she yelled at him in the kitchen. “Get your head out of the gutter. I have customers to serve.” She left furious at him. But Gregory couldn’t get his mind off the murder. It just stuck with him. Bored into his brain. He had moved to Greenbury to get away from all the big city drama. And now that drama had found him again. Only this time, it was murder.

Natalie Schmidt was ecstatic. This was the biggest story she’d had all year. Nothing like a murder to rile people up and start reading the paper again. Oh, she was so happy. Of course she felt bad for Alexia, but Natalie didn’t see her that often. She wasn’t affected by it as much as some other people. “Oh, Alexia,” Natalie laughed with her ice cold journalist heart. “Thank you for being murdered.”

Angela Caetta was yet again, brewing coffee and making lattes for the always demanding customers. She handed Alex Quintanar his coffee and he handed over the money he owed. “So I hear the police have absolutely nothing in the murder case,” Alex said, trying to make small talk. Angela groaned. “I am so tired of hearing about that. I’ve been listening to people talk about it all day long. Can’t people find a different topic?” At that moment, Dr. Ryan Hyun burst into the coffee shop. “Hey, Angela,” he said quickly. “I’m in a really big hurry.” “I got it for you,” Angela said and handed Ryan his pre-made drink. He always came at a specific time. “You’re the best,” he said gratefully. He tossed a high number bill on the counter for Angela. “Keep the change.” “Thanks,” Angela called after him as he ran out of the door. “He was in a hurry,” commented Alex. “He’s always in a hurry.”

The Mafia conversed together. They felt confident over Alexia Hatun’s murder. The police couldn’t catch them, they were too smart. One of them giggled with sick pleasure. “Are we ready?” The other two smiled and nodded. One crossed a name off a list. One laced up their black hiking boots. They were ready to kill again.

Sally Choi watched as Kristeen Shamas hiked away from the Nature Center, the sun starting to sink lower in the sky. Sally sighed. At least she did something today. Three people had come into hike. Sally got up from her seat and shaded her eyes. She could see Kristeen’s fading silhouette as she went farther alone the trail.

Kristeen Shamas dug her hiking stick into the soil as she went up the incline. Her claves tensed and her face was red. She always loved hiking. There was the sound of someone rustling in the background. Kristeen turned around and looked. Nothing greeted her. She shook it off and moved on. //I’ll head back in five minutes or so//, Kristeen thought. She didn’t even hear the killers slowly advancing behind her. She sighed and stared into the sunset. A twig snapped, and Kristeen didn’t even have time to turn around before the sharpened ax slammed into her back.

Kristeen Shamas was found the next morning when Sally informed the police that Kristeen had not returned. They found her farther up the trail, axed to death. Barely recognizable. The second murder. The papers again, read murder. That’s all that was talked about. The town was getting suspicious, and the Mafia was going more and more confident.

Harrison Pyros laid the newspaper on his desk. Murder, murder, murder. Maybe he should leave his house on the hill and go down to the town. Maybe. Maybe after the next murder, because he knew it was coming soon.

**Chapter 3** The Greenbury Murderer. That’s what they were calling him. At least they presumed they were a “him.” He had stuck twice. The second death incredibly more violent than the first. Two women dead. And the police had nothing still. The killers smiled. Their reign of terror was started to unfold.

Naira Demirchian and Stella Aghakian were on their lunch break. They sat at one of the chain restaurants. Naira swallowed another piece salad. “You want to go to the book store with me after work?” asked Naira. “I don’t know,” Stella wavered. “That Emma chick kind of creeps me out. Sometimes, she calls herself Crazy Old Lady Shannon and knits behind the counter. She’s thirty.” “So she’s a little weird. She’s got a good store.” “Whatever. Anyways, what book are you going to get?” asked Stella. “I was thinking a crime-fiction book,” Naira said. “You know, with all the murders going around.” “That’s just creepy, Naira.” “A killer in Greenbury. Can you believe it?” Naira said excitedly. “Maybe I can figure it out. We both know our idiot police force won’t get it.” Stella opened her mouth to make a comment, but then shut it. “So do you want to come?” asked Naira. “Yeah, sure,” Stella said. “Okay, Miss Detective, who do you suspect is the killer?” Naira thought for a little. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Cailey Stevenson handed over an ice cream cone to Luke Yee. In return, Luke paid her the fair price. “Thanks, Cailey,” he said. “Sure,” she mumbled. “Are you all right?” asked Luke, concerned. “I’m fine,” she said curtly. Luke eyebrows came together. “Are you going to eat your ice cream or just let it melt?” Cailey demanded. “S-Sorry,” stuttered Luke and left Cailey alone back in her shop.

Adam Gross was tired. He had good reason to be. Anthony Catello had done nothing yesterday. He would be surprised to find nothing in his paycheck the next day. Adam sighed. Why couldn’t he find someone who was actually a good worker?

Nicole Szalay-Fiumani sat in her office. Kid after kid had been coming in today. I have had nightmares about the murders. I’m scared. What’s going to happen? Blah, blah, blah. Those kids needed to seriously shut up. Most of them weren’t even Kristeen’s students. And what about Nicole? Had anyone come to ask Nicole what she was feeling? No! No one. Had anyone come to show sympathy to her or the principal, Mr. DeVirgilis? Not at all. They were only the closest staff on campus. Nicole crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it towards the trash. She took a breath to calm herself and then called for the next whiny kid to come in.

Natalie Schmidt’s fingers drummed against her car wheel as she waited for Angela Caetta to cross the road. Angela was talking into her cell phone. “So who do you think it is?” Angela asked. “I don’t know,” Abbi Berry said on the other line. “Should I care?” “Well, yeah. There’s kind of a killer in our town.” “I guess. Hey, want to come over tonight and watch a movie. Empty theatre, I promise.” “Sounds good,” Angela replied. “Want me to call Sally?” “Nah,” Abbi said. “I’ll do it. See ya.” And she hung up. Natalie, impatiently, slammed her palm against her horn. The noise blared and Angela jumped. “Hurry up!” Natalie yelled from inside her car. “I’ve got an article to write.” “Shut up,” Angela yelled back and flipped Natalie the bird. She got out of the way of the car and Natalie’s tires screeched as she sped towards the news building.

“Hey, William,” Julia Stanford said when she saw William Dougall in their building’s hallway. “’Sup, Julia,” William replied. “Have you seen Alex today?” she asked in her high voice. “I think he was with Ryan,” Will said. “Oh,” Julia replied. “Well, I need to see him right away.”

Roy Kim watched from the fire station as a car sped towards the news center. It wasn’t Natalie’s. It was someone else’s. //This should be interesting//, he thought.

Cailey Stevenson burst into the news center. Natalie, at her computer, looked up startled. “I know who it is,” Cailey said.

A mob of people were crowded outside of Adam Gross’s house. Cailey was in front.

“Come out!” she screamed. “I know you killed Kristeen.” Adam walked out of his house. “What are you talking about?” “Search his house!” yelled Cailey to the police. “I know he’s the killer.” Mitchell came up to Adam. “Sir, may we search your house?” “I’ve got nothing to hide,” he said. “Does Cailey seriously think I killed Alexia and Kristeen?” “It’s not just Cailey,” Mitchell replied.

Adam Gross was taken into custody. The bloody ax found buried in a shallow grave in his backyard was put in evidence. Adam was put in a holding cell, waiting for bail that would never come. The evidence was shipped to a lab out of the town to be tested. And Adam sat alone and cold in the quiet cell at night. The one officer on duty was in the other room, probably sleeping. Adam looked out of the high, barred window and sighed. “Hello,” a voice sounded from outside. “What in the—” Adam started to say before the person dropped an object into the cell. “What is this?” “Bu-bye,” said another voice outside. And then Adam knew what it was. He only had time to gasp before the pipe bomb exploded. Outside of the police station, in the back, a bunch of large rocks were set up to form words. They spelled out one word. Three.

Harrison Pyros saw the blast from his home on the hill. He sighed and shuddered. He turned back to his desk. Things were starting to pick up in Greenbury. **Chapter 4** Mitchell Aslo ordered a curfew over Greenbury. No one shall be out after 10 o’ clock, for fear the Greenbury Murderer would strike. Mitchell, himself, sat at home, the guilt of these three murders over him. But he couldn’t show it was getting to him. No, that would imply weakness. And Mitchell Aslo was not weak.

Dr. Lisa Bok was headed home after a long day of work. The sun was setting in an orange glow which gave a pleasantly serene view of the Greenbury Cliffs in the distance. Lisa glanced at her watch. It was almost ten; she had better hurry and get home. She had been walking most of this week since her car was still in Matthew Neumann’s Auto Shop. She hurried along the sidewalk, her dark heels clicking along the way. A car slowly advanced behind her. It caught up to her and pulled next to Lisa. Jeremy Chong, one of the police officers, stuck his head out of the window.

“Lisa,” he said. “It’s almost curfew. Why are you still out?”

“I still don’t have my car,” she explained. “I’ve been walking to and from work. I wish Neumann would hurry up. It’s killing me walking in these awful things.” She looked down at her expensive shoes.

“Do you need a ride?” asked Jeremy. “I can give you a lift to your house.”

“If it’s no trouble, all right.”

“Not at all,” the officer said. “Hop in.”

The next morning, Alan Chung was counting up the amount Vincent Villacorta owned him for the groceries he had just bought.

“So what do you think of this murder business?” asked Vincent. The silvery-white watch on his wrist shone under the florescent lights.

“I don’t like it,” Alan said as he bagged the items. “But it is amazingly interesting.”

“You aren’t afraid the killer’s going to go after you?” Vincent asked surprised. “I sure am. I make the curfew every night.”

“You know,” Alan said, “it’s the weirdest thing. Barely last week, I was wishing something would happen. And now, three people are dead and we’ve got a serial killer. That was definitely not what I meant by something new.”

Cailey Stevenson’s ice cream shop was deathly quiet. It had been locked up ever since Adam Gross had died. Cailey was in her own house, hiding from everyone. Everything.

“That poor girl,” some would say. “She lost her friend. And then she lured a man right into the killer’s trap. It’s only a wonder what she must be feeling.”

Hannah Erickson snipped at Dalia Farazdaghi’s dark hair in her hair salon. Dalia, like most of the other women who came to her, was babbling on. Hannah was always thankful when she had an appointment for a man. They didn’t gossip or ramble on…most of the time. But this time, Hannah was actually engaged in the conversation.

“So how is your new dog?” asked Dalia.

“Oh, she’s great,” Hannah said, concentrating on Dalia’s hair. “Just fantastic.”

“So what did you name her?”

“Sara,” Hannah answered.

“That’s nice. She was one of the most behaved ones, you know. All the others have just been going crazy ever since these murders started.”

Hannah shook her head. “Nothing good has come from these murders.”

“This is the best thing that has ever happened!” Natalie exclaimed. A riot breaks out and arrests an innocent man. And that exact night, he’s blown to pieces. This story was really picking up.

Her fingers slid over the keys on the keyboard as she excitedly typed out the follow up story on Adam’s death.

The woman at the chain wine store stood behind the counter. The bell rung as the front entrance door opened. A person stepped in.

The woman smiled at her customer and they made their way up to the counter.

“Anything I can help you with?” she asked.

“One chardonnay please,” they said.

“All right,” she said and brought the drink to them. They paid and left with the bottle.

That’s odd, the woman thought. Why are they wearing gloves? It’s so warm out today.

Angela Caetta walked down the street on her lunch break. Her feet tapped against the sidewalk as she trotted to her house. She heard something behind her and turned around.

There was nothing there. Just the other houses.

“Stop scaring yourself,” she thought. And she walked.

A glimmering bottle of chardonnay. And a sleek needle full of cyanide. Carefully and delicately, the tip was thrust into the bottle’s top. A press of the thumb and in a moment the drink was a murder weapon.

A bright red bow attached and a showy tag, the bottle was ready.

Hannah Erickson unlocked her door and looked down. At her doorstep was a beautiful bottle of chardonnay. She picked it up.

It said it was to her. And from the town, for moving up to the third most successful business in town. Hannah smiled and went inside. She brought the bottle into her room, Sara, her puppy, following wherever she went.

Hannah set it down and went to get a glass.

The Doctor wrapped their hand around the bottle with black gloves. Unseen by anyone, they grasped the bottle and slipped it into their own bag. After, they took out their own, clean, not-poisoned chardonnay and put it down in place of the older. Exactly the same, red bow and everything.

The Doctor was catching onto the Mafia’s pattern and Hannah Erickson was saved.

**Chapter 5**

The killers watched from a window elsewhere. The first, let’s call them X, looked through binoculars at Hannah Erickson in her cozy little home.

The other two, let’s name them Y and Z, waiting with impatience behind X.

X watched as Hannah calmly uncorked the chardonnay bottle and tipped the liquor into her glass. Her dog, whatever it was called, sat by her, its small golden tail thumping against the wooden chair leg.

Hannah held up the glass and set the one-glass-lighter-bottle down on the mahogany table. She looked at the drink and held it up in the afternoon light to admire its beauty.

“Here it comes,” X said excitedly.

Hannah placed the glass to her lips and the liquor seeped towards her mouth. The chardonnay made its way between the red lips and pearly teeth and splashed onto Hannah’s tongue, warming her taste-buds. Then she took another drink. And another.

X’s eyebrows knitted together. “What the…?”

“What’s wrong?” Y asked from behind. “What happened?”

“Is she dead yet?” asked Z.

“No,” X said dumbfounded. “She’s—she’s fine. Completely fine.”

“What?” Z exclaimed in outrage. “Give me those,” Z demanded and snatched the binoculars from X’s hands.

Z peered into them and at the alive and healthy Hannah Erickson.

“What happened?” Z screamed. “She’s supposed to be dead.”

“Someone’s onto us,” Y said.

“No,” X said. “Someone’s onto our pattern.

“Do we know what kind of bomb it was?” asked Abhi Varma.

“Pipe bomb,” Mitchell said, reading from the file.

“Easily made?” asked Jeremy.

“Simple. Probably got it off the Internet,” remarked Mitchell.

Abhi sat down and voiced his thoughts. “So Adam was part of the killer’s plan the whole time. He purposely kills Kristeen, which sets off her friend, Cailey Stevenson. Adam has a bad past with Kristeen, but that problem was old and buried. But Cailey still suspected him, just like the killer planned, and she led them to innocent Adam. We find the bloody ax in the backyard the killer buried earlier, and Adam is framed. Then we go and place him in the cell like a sitting duck with no escape from the pipe bomb’s blast.”

“This person is meticulous and clever,” Jeremy backed Abhi up.

“But he is risky,” Mitchell said.

“Risky?” Abhi said, surprised he would use that word. “He kills at night or where no one can see him. What’s so risky about him?”

“He is relying on others to make decisions and follow his plan,” Mitchell explained. “Cailey could have never confronted Adam, and that ax probably would have never been found, or found later. Then the killer would have to change his plan to get to his next victim, Adam Gross.

“We can make a million mistakes and still catch him. But he only has to screw up once.”

The school grounds were different with the knowledge that there was a serial killer on the loose. The air was tense and rumors were constantly spread. It didn’t help that the second victim was one of the teachers at Greenbury.

Mr. Ted DeVirgilis sighed at his desk. His work load had hugely increased with these murders. Kids, some idiotic, some truly trying to be helpful, would come in and tell him what they thought of about the murders and who they thought it was. And then there were those radical parents constantly calling, making sure Ted was making every action to protect their children.

He wanted to scream. How dumb were these parents? Couldn’t they see that the last three people killed had been adults? It’s not like the killer’s just suddenly going to change their mind and come in and kill a school.

Nicole Szalay-Fiumani burst into his office.

“I am tired of it,” she blurted. “I can’t take it anymore. I am used to having to talk to with kids who actually need to talk, but most of these kids are so full of BS that I want to just scream and say—”

“Miss S,” Ted cut her off. “Control yourself. This is your job.”

“My job is to help kids. Not listen to them repeat a dream they had about a rainy meadow that they somehow interpret to be connected to these killings. I had one kid say he got a letter without a return address and he was convinced the killer was after him next. How stupid can these kids be? Someone probably just wrote it, walked to his house, and put it in his mailbox. I mean, seriously, we all live a hop, skip, and jump away from each other. Literally.” Nicole finished with her face red with anger and frustration.

“At least you don’t have kids coming in here playing detective,” Ted said. “I get it. It’s annoying. But I don’t want the headline of tomorrow’s newspaper to say: School Counselor Tells Student Off. Do you understand me, Miss S?”

Nicole had her arms folded and a now almost always present scowl on her face. “I swear,” she said, “if those officers don’t catch this killer soon, I’m going to go after him myself just so some of these kids will shut up.”

Luke Yee watched from his electronic store as Cailey Stevenson quietly unlocked her ice cream shop door and went inside. Her head was down and her hair hung in her face, but she turned the sign to open and flicked on the lights.

Luke smiled. He was glad she was finally starting to return to normal. As for him, he was headed over to the school to help with a computer issue.

Luke cracked his knuckles as he got in his car and thought about the “major” issue the school was having.

//Free money//, thought Luke.

“Oh my God, Alex,” Stella remarked. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “It just hurts a bit.”

“I’ll get Dr. Bok,” Stella said and quickly left. She came back with Lisa trailing at her heels.

“What happened?” asked Lisa, right to business.

Alex held up his burnt hand. “I burnt it while cooking,” he explained. Stella gave a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Well, does it hurt?” asked Lisa.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Then it’s something. When did you do this?”

“Yesterday. I ran it under water and thought it’d be fine. But it was hurting in the morning.”

“Okay. I’ll write you up something for your hand,” Lisa said and scribbled on a prescription pad.

“Since when do you cook?” asked Stella, who had seen Alex constantly at restaurants.

Alex gave an odd chuckle. “Well, I’ll never do it again.”

Harrison Pyros sat up in his large house up on the hill. To the extent of his knowledge, the killer hadn’t stuck again since Adam’s death.

Harrison lived in peace and solitude. After inheriting a large sum of money from a relative who loved him dearly (Harrison could care less for her) died, he never needed to work again. He sat idly upon his hill and thought and read and wrote. And now these murders were popping up. Something exciting to be brought into his dull and tedious existence.

He suspected the kids all thought the killer was him. A creepy, yet young, man living alone and isolated on a hill with only a single house. He fit perfectly into the cliché. But Harrison could care less; he was happy, nonetheless, in his home.

“So what are your thoughts on the murders?” asked Natalie Schmidt, pen ready against notepad.

“Terrible. Just terrible,” replied Abbi Berry. “It is one of the most horrible things about humans.”

“Excuse me?” Natalie asked, confused at her comment.

“Think about it,” Abbi said. “We are the only species that is constantly murdering and killing each other. And hunting. Oh, hunting!” She spat the word hunting like a housemaid says cockroaches. “Now that is a sick sport. Humans are the only species that kills another species mainly for fun and game. Tell me, where is the pleasure in ending the life of something else?”

“Uh-huh.” Natalie nodded in agreement.

What she really thought was: //If this lady doesn’t say something interesting soon, I’m going to deck her for wasting my time.//

“Now you see, I’m a vegetarian,” Abbi talked on.

Something caught Natalie’s attention. She cut Abbi off in mid-sentence, “Sorry. I have to go.” She wasn’t sorry at all.

Hannah walked into the police station.

“Excuse me,” she said to the room full of officers. “I think someone just tried to poison me.”

She set a bag on the table. In it was an unopened bottle of chardonnay. On the tag, written over the original black writing, was the word: Poison.

William Dougall knocked at Julia Stanford’s door.

“Come in,” came Julia’s soft voice from inside.

William entered and closed the door behind him. “Julia, I need your opinion on something.”

“Oh, me too!” Julia said excitedly from the other room. “Come here.”

William raised an eyebrow and walked into the room over. Julia was standing in front of a canvas with a frock on. It didn’t surprise William that Julia was a practicing artist; it was the picture she was painting.

The painting, beautifully styled, was of a bloody body lying on a doorstep and a crowd of people behind blockades staring at it. Frozen police officers, purposely posed, tried to keep the crowd back and investigated the body. But the weird thing was William could recognize every face in that painting. It was the scene of Alexia Hatun’s murder. He could even see himself in the crowd along with Julia next to him.

William laughed uncomfortably. “So you’re an artist?”

“Yeah,” Julia said, not noticing William’s tone of voice. “I like this one. I couldn’t get these murders out of my head, so I was like, ‘Hey, why don’t I just paint it.’ It’s cool, right?”

William scratched the back of his head. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s good.”

Julia turned around. “So what did you want to talk about?”

Luke was already done fixing the computers. Like he said: Free money. He walked down the hall, headed back to his car. An open door caught his attention. It was the supply room for the track and field.

Luke chuckled. “I haven’t been in here in years.” He wandered into the room and looked around. He sighed. The good days of high school.

A dumbbell was out of place on the rack. He’d better fix it. He walked over and straightened the weight so it lined up with the others. Much better.

He looked at another piece of equipment. It was shiny and reflective. He saw something in it behind him. He squinted and looked at it. That’s when the killer hit him over the head with a shot put from behind.

**Chapter 6**

Sally Choi headed up to the school. She shut her car door and advanced towards the doors. Sally was supposed to give a tour at the nature center for one of the classes tomorrow and she wanted to get some details from the principal, Ted DeVirgilis.

She walked down the hall swiftly, her hair bouncing as she went. Her perfect black bangs stayed in place. A door ajar caught her attention. Sally made her way over to it. Curiously, she peered into it.

Her jaw dropped. Her back hit the wall as she tried to back up. Her eyes were wide with horror. She let out a piercing scream.

Then she ran from the room with Luke Yee’s body.

“The usual?” Angela asked Gregory from behind the counter.

“Yeah,” he responded.

“You like staying in your box, don’t you?” Angela said as she lathered whipped cream on top of the drink.

“I’m comfortable in my box.”

Angela laughed lightly. Her cell phone rang as she handed Greg his drink.

“Hello?” Pause. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed horrified. “Really? I’ll be right there.” She snapped her phone shut and hurried down the counter for the exit.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Gregory asked alarmed.

“There’s been another murder,” Angela said gravely.

“What?” Gregory almost dropped his cup.

Heads turned in the shop, people started talking, throwing questions. Some stood up and went to Angela. Others hurriedly dialed phones to see if the person they were seeking was all right.

“You’re in charge,” Angela said and pointed at one of her employees. “I’m going down there.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Mitchell roared.

Natalie stood up from behind her desk. “Back up, Mitchell. No need to blow a fuse.”

“I asked you a question,” he said. “How did you figure this out?” He slammed his hand down on the draft of the next day’s newspaper. It had a picture of Hannah Erickson and the title was: A Saved Victim.

“It’s news. I report news, Mitchell,” she said, not caring he was an officer of the law. “It’s my job. Get with the program.”

“I told Hannah not to tell anyone about this. And she didn’t. How did you find this out?”

“I saw Hannah go into the station and I went in after her. I overheard while I was standing in there,” Natalie explained, still giving Mitchell no respect. “I can’t believe you’re asking me this. Do you seriously think no one can hear you when you “whisper”? Maybe someone outside of a fifty mile radius.”

“Shut your mouth,” Mitchell snapped. Natalie was taken aback. “This does not get out. I don’t want more people getting scared.”

“This is against the First Amendment,” Natalie complained.

A voice came over Mitchell’s radio. “I’ll be right there,” he said back.

Natalie raised her eyebrow. “Another victim?”

Ted DeVirgilis and Nicole Szalay-Fiumani stood a ways away as they watched the covered body be loaded into the ambulance on a stretcher. Parents were coming left and right to pick up their kids. It was complete chaos.

Ted and Nicole saw Angela rush out of her car and run to Sally. They embraced and by the concerned look on Angela’s face, they could tell she was asking Sally if she was okay.

“Unbelievable!” Nicole threw up her arms. “Now more kids are going to come to me with their stupid problems.”

Emma Shannon set down her red yarn she was knitting. She liked her knitting, it calmed her. And it was especially handy when a serial killer was loose around town.

She looked out the window of her book store and saw Anthony Catello running across the street. He seemed to be in a huge hurry. Emma didn’t know why. Anthony had taken up the store since Adam’s death. He was the boss, so why did Anthony have to rush?

Emma watched as Anthony fumbled with the key to the hard ware store next door and finally went inside. Emma’s eyebrows came together in concern.

Dalia burst into the store.

“Emma!” said almost yelled. “Did you hear? Someone got killed at the school.”

//Why was Anthony running away from the school?// Emma thought.

Julia painted away. Her eyes following the flowing brush as it stroked across the canvas. It nicked the canvas for details and boasted broad, daring brush strokes.

People came to life and the scene unfolded. A terror. A tragic scene.

Faces of horror and anguish. And suspicion.

And the final touch was of the dead, broken body of Kristeen Shamas.

“I mean, don’t you agree?” Naira said to Stella across the table at Zakieh Alahmad’s restaurant. “Four murders and the police know nothing. It’s embarrassing. What happens when a little kid gets taken out? What are they going to do then?”

“You don’t have much faith in our police,” commented Stella. In the table behind them, Hannah Erickson picked at her food uncomfortably, overhearing the loud conversation.

Naira rolled her eyes. “What gave it away? All of them are a bunch of idiots who took the job because you don’t have to do anything. But now, suddenly all these people are dead and they don’t know crap.”

“So what are you going to do, Naira?” Stella asked. “Complaining about it won’t help. I bet you know less about it then they do.”

“I at least have a theory,” Naira boasted. “I think it was that Cailey chick. Think about it, she murders her friend on purpose and then takes the natural response and freaks out and blames someone. She plants the ax in his backyard and accuses him. The police arrest Adam and put him right into Cailey’s trap. And then boom. The end.”

“You have a very active imagination,” Stella said after a pause.

“But it could easily work,” Naira pressed.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Roy heard about the commotion at the school. Poor Luke. Luke was a nice guy.

Roy got up from his chair and stretched his legs. He was tired of being cooped up all day.

He grabbed his black hiking boots and put them on. It was a nice day for a walk.

Anthony Catello closed the hard ware store’s door behind him. He ran to the sink and turned it onto full blast. He stuck his hands under the cool water and watched as the blood washed from his hands.

//The police are going to think it was me!// His thoughts screamed at him.

He took off his shoes and threw them in the corner. He pressed his wet hands to his head. His breathing was heavy and came in gasps. What was he going to do?

There was a knock at the back door of the shop. Anthony hesitated for a moment and then went to it. He sucked in a breath and then opened the door. On the ground was a note. It said:

I know. Meet me up at Greenbury Cliffs. Seer’s Spot.

Anthony scrambled and got a different pair of shoes on. He was headed for Seer’s Spot.

Emma knocked at the hard ware store’s front door. No answer. Emma tried the knob. Open.

She opened the door and looked inside. There was no one she could see.

“Hello?” she called. It was deathly quiet.

Emma’s eyes caught something in the corner. Her eyes focused on a pair of shoes. On the bottoms was something discolored. What was that? Emma squinted and looked closer, making sure she didn’t enter the store.

She gasped as she realized what it was. Blood caked the bottoms of Anthony’s shoes. Emma stumbled backwards with a hand over her mouth. She knew who the killer was.

Anthony wiped the sweat from his brow as he stopped at Seer’s Spot. It was a beautiful spot on the cliff-side to see the forest and feel the smog-free air in your face and hair. But it wasn’t beautiful if you had just seen a dead body and left evidence that would lead the police to believe you killed the person.

Anthony had found Luke on accident. He went over to him to check if he was still alive, but then he noticed what had happened. It had been dark; he couldn’t see all that blood. Luke’s head was smashed in. It was horrific.

And Anthony had panicked, he had run. And now the police would think he was the Greenbury Murderer. Maybe this person who knew could change that, could help him.

Instead, they came from behind him and smashed a bat into his knee.

Anthony screamed as he heard the sickening crack and he crumpled to the ground. The killer kicked him and rolled him closer and closer towards the edge.

Anthony begged as he tried to stop them, his leg twisted out at an impossible angle.

And then with one final kick, the killer sent him over the edge. But Anthony only fell for a second. His body slammed into a ledge and he heard something in his back snap. A whistle came from Anthony’s throat as he struggled to breath.

And all he could see was the killer looking from above with a smile on their face as Anthony was left to die out there on the ledge.

**Chapter 7**

“I don’t think he did it,” Abhi said.

“Are you crazy?” Jeremy exclaimed. “There was evidence he did it all over the scene.”

“But only over one scene,” Abhi argued.

“So he got sloppy,” Jeremy countered. “He doesn’t even have an alibi for the four murders and one attempted murder. And what about the blood on his shoes?”

“Easy,” Abhi said. “He found the body, got scared, and ran.”

“That’s my point.” Jeremy was working himself up into a frenzy. “He ran. He ran from the person he just murdered. And if he’s innocent, why is he still missing? It’s been two days. He’s probably skipped town.”

Mitchell walked into the room. “He’s innocent,” he declared. “There was evidence of him all over the scene, but nothing on the shot put. It doesn’t match up. It actually does look like he stumbled upon the body.”

“What of he wore gloves, but then took them off?” questioned Jeremy.

“I doubt it. We didn’t find any gloves at the scene, hard ware store, or his house. But he is still missing.”

“So what do we do?” Abhi asked. “We’re still looking for him.”

“The FBI is here to help,” replied Mitchell. “God knows we need it.”

The hard ware store had been all but abandoned. With the owner dead and back up owner missing and a rumored serial killer, the other seven employees had quit and gotten different jobs.

As for the library, it has opened back up after a few days with a new head librarian. The electronics store was scrambling to find a new replacement manager, but it was looking like it would survive. The school was still looking for a replacement teacher.

X and Z stood at the Greenbury Cliffs in the middle of the day. They looked like two normal people. But then again, most do. It was the secrets and plans in their head that weren’t normal.

Z sighed. “I can’t believe he’s not dead yet.”

X shook their head and looked over the edge down at Anthony Catello. Small streams of dried blood came from Anthony’s mouth and nose as he laid on the hard rock, waiting to die. For two days he had been unable to move as his organs slowly shut down. Flies and insects crawled over him at will and he could do nothing to stop them. There were dark spots in his eyes and the rasp he made when he tried to breath sounded like something along the lines of two pieces of sandpaper rubbing against each other.

“It’s only a matter of time,” X said.

“It’s been two days,” Z said impatiently. “It’s taking //forever//.”

“Just be glad someone hasn’t found him yet.” X took another look over the edge. “He is still somewhat alive.” “Can we just kill him already? He is basically dead. And it’s time Greenbury discovered the fifth victim.” Z laughed lightly. “Fifth victim. I like the sound of that.”

“It’s only a matter of time before someone finds his car,” X said, starting to lean in Z’s favor. “And I heard people are talking about how Anthony may be the Greenbury Murderer. //Anthony//. Can you believe it? So it’s time we erase that suspicion.”

“Yes.” Z nodded their head.

“I’ll do the honors,” X volunteered. X pulled out their gun, the same one they used to kill Alexia Hatun, and pointed it at Anthony Catello below on the ledge.

“Do it,” Z said from behind.

X pulled the trigger three times. Three deadly bullets cut through the air and propelled themselves into Anthony’s helpless body. Anthony moaned and new spots of blood appeared on his battered clothes.

“Well, I sped up the process,” X remarked. “You write the message.”

Obediently, Z pulled out their knife. They knelt down and dug the blade into the earth. With swift maneuvers, Z produced one single word and replaced their knife.

X and Z walked away from the body and the cliff, back towards Greenbury leaving a simple message, crudely ripped into the soil: Five.

“Did you hear about those two hikers who found Anthony?” Stella asked Naira and Lisa.

“No,” Lisa said. “What happened?”

“They were up at Seer’s Spot and remember what was near the crime scene when Adam got killed?”

“Yeah, the word: three,” Naira said.

“The two hikers saw the word five and looked over the edge,” Stella said excitedly. “And there was Anthony. He was dead, just lying there on the ledge. From what I’ve heard, he was alive for two days, just lying there, until the killer finally shot him.”

Lisa shuddered. “I’m a doctor and sometimes I can’t stand that stuff.”

Naira nodded in agreement.

Harrison Pyros walked along Main Street. It had been an awfully long time since he’d been off his hill.

Heads turned, people whispered. This was a new excitement to go along with the murders.

Harrison wanted to see a movie at Abbi’s theatre. It had been a long time since he had seen a movie.

He walked into the theatre, bought his ticket from the wide-eyed employee, and made his way to the proper screening area.

Abbi Berry watched from a distance, just as surprised as the rest of them.

“Huh,” she finally managed to say. “Nothing like murder to bring people out.”

Matthew Neumann was reading the newspaper. The news of Anthony’s death hadn’t been written about yet, that was tomorrow’s news. But today’s major article was very interesting.

It’s title: A Victim Saved. Hannah Erickson was saved from being poisoned with cyanide by an unknown person.

“Interesting,” Matthew said to himself.

Hannah put down her own newspaper. Sheriff Aslo had told her Natalie Schmidt wouldn’t put out that story.

Hannah decided to take some time off for herself.

Zoie Telkamp stood in her dry cleaners and watched Emma go to her car. Emma had just picked up her dry cleaning and headed home. Zoie looked at the last pickup for today: Ryan Hyun.

Ryan had been very busy lately. Zoie hadn’t seen him around lately. She guessed that was the sacrifice in being a doctor.

Vincent Villacorta unlocked the front door of his house. He swung the door in and stepped inside. He closed the door behind him and looked around.

Something felt wrong. His eyebrows came together and he felt the needle prick his neck.

Light shone through the trees in the forest onto the three figures on the dirty forest floor. Emma snapped her eyes open and sat up quickly.

Her heart pounded as adrenaline made its way into her system.

//How did I get here? What happened? What is going on? Where am I?// Her thoughts were in overdrive.

The figure next to her moved and struggled to lift its head. Her hair obscured her face as she sat up.

“What going on?” asked the scared book store owner.

Naira Demirchian pulled the hair from her face. She pressed a hand to the ground and got to her feet. Emma did the same.

Naira pressed a hand to her head. “What happened?”

Emma looked around in alarm. “I don’t know.”

The third person moved next to them. The two women looked at the rising figure of Vincent Villacorta as he stumbled and got up.

He shaded the sunlight from his eyes as he looked around. “Where are we?”

The two could only respond with terrified faces and shakes of the head. They were lost in the middle of the Greenbury Forest.

Cailey walked her dog down Frost Lane in the waning sunlight cast over the town of Greenbury.

Her dog, a beautiful German Shepard, suddenly stopped and stared at Vincent Villacorta’s house. Its muzzle was pointed directly at it and its dog eyes were fixed on the wooden door.

“Come on,” Cailey said and pulled on the leash. It was almost curfew.

Her dog reluctantly moved on and Cailey cast a questioning glance over her shoulder at Vincent’s house.

Gregory Ohanian looked out his front window at Adam Gross’s house. His empty house.

It had given him nightmares. He had seen the arrest; he had seen the police find the bloody ax. The same ax the Greenbury Murderer used to butcher Kristeen Shamas.

The order and safety of this town was all spiraling out of control. And all that was left to wonder was who was going to be next.

“Are you saying we could actually be the next victims?” Emma asked hysterically.

Naira breathed heavily. “This isn’t possible!” she screamed. “I don’t even know how I got here.”

“I opened my door,” Vincent said, his head down, “and I looked around. I felt this prick, and then nothing. Just blackness.”

“Me too,” Emma said and rubbed her neck.

“We’ve been walking for hours.” Naira slouched. “Do we even know where we’re going?”

“Does it look like we know where we’re going?” Emma snapped.

“Well excuse me for not wanting to be walking in a circle.”

Vincent looked up at the sky. “It’s getting dark.”

“I don’t want to be here when it’s dark.” Naira looked around fearfully.

Their feet crunched against the twigs and leaves and they slowly moved ahead. Emma stopped short, Vincent and Naira weren’t aware and kept walking. After a few steps, they realized and turned around.

“What’s the matter?” asked Vincent.

Emma pointed. “Is that an arrow?”

Carved into a fat tree truck was an arrow pointing out in front of them.

Naira looked over at it. “This means we’re going the right way, right?”

But Vincent was looking the other direction. “What about that?” He pointed at the opposite truck with an arrow pointing in the opposite direction than the first arrow.

“But which way is the right way?” asked Naira.

“We don’t know,” Emma said and pointed at the last thing carved into the tree straight in front of them: Which Way Is Correct?

Roy knocked on Emma’s book store window.

“Hello?” he called. “Is anyone in there?” No answer. “Of course. The one day that the next book in the series comes out.” And Roy left the empty shop in frustration.

Stella’s cell phone hit Naira’s voicemail and Stella snapped it closed. Naira hadn’t showed up to work today.

“Where are you, Naira?”

Naira was trudging through the woods along with Vincent and Emma. They had made it through the night. The temperature had dropped and they sat together, huddled for warmth. The forest floor was dirty and irritating, and they were still unbearably lost. And it was all starting to settle on them they just might be murdered in those woods by the Greenbury Murderer.

“Do any of you know these woods?” Naira asked hopelessly.

Vincent shook his head. “No.”

“My dad used to take me hiking up here when I was little, but not since then,” Emma said.

“I mean, the best thing we can hope for is to stumble along a trail right?” Naira said. “There’s got to be a bunch of them. It’s only a matter of time we found one.”

Emma looked up at the afternoon sky through the dense trees. “I hope we find one soon.” She pressed her hands to her gurgling stomach.

“I don’t feel safe out here,” Naira said looking around. “I feel so exposed and—”

“Naira!” Vincent yelled and grabbed the back of her shirt. He yanked her backwards and they toppled to the ground.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Naira screeched and got up.

“Look what you almost stepped on.” Vincent pointed from the ground.

A new, pristine bear trap was sitting on the ground, jaws gaping, ready to snap on anything.

Naira faltered and stumbled backwards.

“M-Maybe it’s a coincidence,” Emma stammered.

“I don’t think so,” Vincent said shaking his head.

There were at least ten more traps that dotted the ground ahead. All pristine and new, ready to clamp. On the tree in the distance, Vincent could just make out the words: Watch Your Step.

Vincent felt the weight of the large pocket knife in his pocket, a weapon neither Emma nor Naira knew about. He pondered how long he had until he was forced to use it.

“I think Vincent’s missing,” Zakieh informed the police.

“What? Vincent Villacorta?” Abhi asked.

“Yes,” Zakieh pressed. “He wasn’t in his store today and I drove by his house today on the way to the book store. I saw his car in the drive way, but when I knocked, no one answered. Emma’s missing too. I heard Roy say she wasn’t at her shop either. I’m telling you, the Greenbury Murderer’s got him.”

“Just calm down,” Abhi said, trying to sooth the woman. He yelled over his shoulder: “Aslo, get in here.”

“This is crazy!” screamed Emma in the waning light. “It’s almost night. How can no one be looking for us? How can no one have found us yet? Is no one looking?”

“Shut up,” Naira hissed. “Be quiet. They might hear us.”

“Like they’re not already watching,” spat Emma.

“I’ll take the first watch,” volunteered Vincent. His eyes caught something. He could have sworn it was a shadow.

Ryan Hyun pounded on Nicole’s door. Nicole came to it and looked through the tiny glass hole.

“What do you want Ryan?”

“Let me in,” he stammered from outside. “Please. Hurry!”

“It’s an hour past curfew,” Nicole said through the door. “Why aren’t you at home?”

“I lost track of time,” Ryan stammered. “Please, let me in.”

“Lost track of time doing what?”

“I was up at Greenbury Cliffs.”

“You mean where they found Anthony’s body? Why in God’s name where you there? Leave me alone, Ryan.”

“Please, I’m begging you,” he said and pounded on the door again. “I saw something I was so sure someone is following me. I was up there because I’m trying to figure out who is killing all these people. I’m not the killer. You can trust me.”

“Like hell I can,” Nicole said and administered the second lock on her door.

Their clothes were ripped. Their feet were sore. Their stomachs were cramped. They had bags under their eyes from lack of sleep. You can never sleep when you’re panicked.

The three stumbled down another leave-covered slope in the early morning.

Tears made their way down Emma Shannon’s face. “I want to go home. I don’t want to die,” she moaned.

“No one’s going to die,” Vincent was going to say, but naira cut him off.

“You think saying that is going to get you anywhere, Emma?” Naira screeched. “We all want to go home. None of us want to die. So for God’s Sakes: such the hell up. I’ve heard enough. You’re driving me insane.

“None of us had had anything to eat. We had barely enough to sleep. We’ve been walking through these forests for what? Two days now? I can’t even remember! But what I can tell you is that no one wants to hear it anymore. Especially not me.

I don’t want to die, but do I moan about it? No! So be quiet because I want to get out of here and survive!”

And that’s when Y pressed the trigger on their crossbow.

The disappearance of Naira, Vincent, and Emma was made public that morning in the public newspaper written by Natalie Schmidt of course.

But this last story wasn’t just a story anymore. She had finally realized this thing was something that was actually happened and not just a juicy story. //Three// people kidnapped? That was scary.

And Natalie was finally starting to fear.

The arrow cut through the air and sliced through the neck of Vincent Villacorta. It stuck in place, the tip and its half sticking out of the front of his neck.

The blood splattered Naira’s face as Vincent stood shocked in place. Emma let out a scream as Vincent collapsed to the floor.

Naira let out a gasp and slowly pressed a hand to her face. The blood stained her fingertips as she looked at it in horror.

Emma was still screaming, her hands pressed to her ears. No words, just screams as she stared at the body she couldn’t look away from.

Naira shook with terror at the sight of Vincent freshly murdered body. And then she turned and ran, Emma right behind her.

An arrow followed, missed its marks and buried itself in a tree truck. Emma and Naira ran on, Y was not far behind.

Sally heard the screaming in the forest. She stood up from her desk.

“What the…?” she said out loud. “Who is that?”

Dalia looked from her store at the forest. She never liked the forest. But today…today was different. It felt different. More evil. Sinister. Like something was watching. Lurking.

Waiting.

“Run!” screamed Naira. “Run!”

The two women sprinted through the forest. Headed anywhere. Headed away from whoever was chasing them.

They stumbled over roots and uneven ground and the snarls that grabbed at their torn clothing.

“Help!” screamed Emma. Their feet pounded against the soil, forgetting that they were swollen and beat up. They were literally running for their lives.

Naira could see a break in the foliage. She was so close. They were going to make it.

A random arrow shot past them on a terrible shot.

Emma and naira broke through the forest into the sunlight. Their feet his grass and they caught sight of something they had longed for. For so long. Civilization and safety.

Sally Choi stood at the back door of her nature center with a confused and surprised look on her face.

“Naira? Emma?” she asked as the girls propelled themselves towards her. “Where have you been? Where’s Vincent?”

Y took an aim from the cover of the trees and smiled. They pressed down on the trigger. This was going to be great: so close and then to fail.

The arrow zipped through the air, headed towards its mark.

“Sally!” yelled Naira as she got closer. “Help us, Sally. Someone’s out there trying—” She was cut off as the arrow pieced her flesh and jammed its way into her shoulder.

Naira fell and screamed. She could feel the blood seeping into her shirt and running down her side. She couldn’t feel the pain yet. She didn’t know if she would even get the chance.

“Naira!” screamed Sally, and rushed to her. “What’s going on? What’s happening?”

Emma grabbed Naira as Sally came. They hauled her towards the door.

“Open the door,” demanded Sally as she carried Naira towards the safety of the center.

An arrow missed its mark and buried itself in the soil.

Naira shook with the pain that flooded over her. Tears fell down her face. Her breathing was raspy. She limped with the help of Sally.

Emma wrenched open the doors. “Come on,” she said hurriedly. “Come on, they’re open. Hurry, Sally. Hur—” Emma suddenly stopped. She looked down at her chest as the blood dripped from her mouth. The back of the arrow stuck from her chest and she collapsed to the ground.

Sally and Naira screamed. There was so much screaming. It was chaos.

They made their way into the center and closed the door, leaving Emma’s body outside. Sally set down Naira and ran for a phone.

Y lowered their crossbow from the shield of trees. They were done for today so they left through the forest. Only to return to the town of Greenbury.

**Chapter 8**

Naira sat in her hospital bed. A white cast and sling cast covered her shoulder and she was propped up by white pillows.

Stella sat near her, waiting for her to awaken. Stella flipped another page in her book, engrossed in it.

Naira stirred awake.

“Oh, Naira,” Stella said and put down the book. “You’re awake.”

“What happened?” asked Naira. She was drowsy and unfocused. She felt lightheaded and her eyes were slowly adjusting.

“The killer tried to get to you, Naira,” Stella explained. “They hit you in the shoulder, but you got away. The doctor says you’ll be fine. It was only a flesh wound. We can go back to Greenbury in two or three days.”

“What—what happened to Emma?” asked Naira.

Stella faltered. “She—she didn’t make it. I’m really sorry, Naira. The doctor said you were extremely lucky to get away.”

Those words hung in the air: //extremely lucky…//

“This is getting out of control!” Abbi yelled. “Seven people are dead. Seven people. Our police force can’t do anything, so they call in the FBI to do something. You expect those idiots to do their job and not let three people to be kidnapped and hunted down.”

Natalie nodded her head in agreement. Angela was by Abbi’s side in Natalie’s news center. Natalie threw up her hands in defeat. “What am I supposed to do, Abbi? I report the news. I’m trying to keep people as informed as I can.”

“Did you know Sally won’t even come out of her house?” spat Angela. “It’s been two days. This is insane. We need someone to tell the police how it is, and you, Natalie, are the best person to do that.”

“Fine,” Natalie agreed. On the inside, she was smiling. It was the excuse she had been waiting for to finally tell off Mitchell.

“So how did it happen?” asked Matthew as he worked on Alex’s car. Alex was getting his tire fixed.

“I must have run over something sharp when I was driving up to the cliffs,” he responded.

“The cliffs?” asked Matthew, somewhat stunned. “No one’s been going up there since they found Anthony.”

Alex shrugged. “That’s why I go up there. No one’s around so it’s nice and peaceful.”

“But aren’t you a little creeped out? Because of—” He paused “—well, you know.”

“I guess. It just doesn’t bother me much.”

Alex saw Hannah walking towards her hair salon. Her dirty blond ponytail bounced as she walked.

“Poor girl,” Alex heard Matt say. “Did you read the article?”

“Of course.”

“Almost killed. That gets to your head.”

“It’s better than being murdered though,” Alex said.

Julia was distant today. But today wasn’t anything special. Julia was distant almost every day now.

She and William were in the same business together; they were basically partners. He had found it harder and harder to get her attention while they were working together. If she was alone, she would always come back with great ideas and her work would be done, but if she was here with William, discussing plans, she was quieter than a shy four-year-old. Then there was the situation with the paintings.

William tried to force conversation, just to see if Julia would at least speak. “So…Paint anything new?”

Julia’s eyes brightened. “Oh, yes. I just finished the final touches of my last one. I think you saw it. Or was that the other one? I don’t remember. But I think it turned out fantastic. Do you want to see it?” she finished excitedly. That was probably the longest time William had heard Julia talk all week.

“Uh, I guess.”

Julia pulled out her phone and expertly drew up the picture she wished to show her business partner. Smiling, she showed him her painting.

It was a detailed painting, in midafternoon, of the crime scene where Kristeen Shamas was murdered. In the horror and blood that was portrayed in this painting, you also had to recognize the beauty and talent put into it. A beautiful painting of death.

“What do you think?” asked Julia, still holding the phone.

William gave the answer she wanted to hear, despite his true feelings. “It’s good.”

Dr. Hyun scribbled a prescription and handed the piece of paper to Cailey. Ryan had made it home after Nicole hadn’t let him in. Even after he swore something was out there. There was no trust in this town. If something were actually out there, he could have died just because someone was too scared to open a door.

“Thanks,” Cailey said in a stuffed voice. “I don’t even know how I caught this.”

“Probably just your allergies. This year’s just bad for you,” Ryan said. “Stay inside, okay? And get better.”

“Thanks again, Ryan.”

“All right,” Nicole threatened. “Either you get a second person to help me deal with these kids, or I’m quitting and moving. This town is going down the toilet anyways.”

Ted didn’t even look up from his paper. “Nicole, don’t be so overdramatic.”

“I’m not being overdramatic!” Her voice was slowly rising. “My job is hell now.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“You want to switch jobs for the day? See how you like it.” Nicole crossed her arms.

Ted opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. Nicole’s lips got tighter, her eyebrow rose.

“No thank you,” Ted replied.

“Exactly,” Nicole said. “This isn’t over with.”

She slammed the door as she left.

It was fun being off his hill. Fun he hadn’t remembered in a long time.

Harrison set his items on the line. Alan, without even looking up, started to scan his food items, the price chocking up.

“How are you today, Alan?” Harrison asked politely.

Alan’s head snapped up from his work, recognizing the voice. His jaw hung open in obvious surprise as food slid past him on the conveyer belt.

“I, um. It’s—uh…Pretty—pretty good.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Harrison said and placed the cash on the table.

“What happened to the boy who took your groceries up to the house?”

“I have no need for him anymore now that I can do it,” Harrison said and left with this food.

“Move,” Natalie commanded and blew past Abhi in the police station.

“Miss Schmidt,” Abhi blustered.

“Where Mitchell?” Natalie said to the room.

“Aslo,” Jeremy called. “The witch is here to see you.”

Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “Jeremy, you are so glad you’re out of kicking range, because I could easily make you sing soprano for a week.”

“What do you want, Schmidt?” Mitchell asked like he just ate a bad meal.

“What are you doing?” asked Natalie, venomously.

“What do you mean?” asked Mitchell confused.

“That’s right,” Natalie said, her voice rising. “Nothing. You’re doing nothing, even when seven people are dead. There have been two attempted murders. And I ask: Who’s going to stop it? Definitely not you! You haven’t done crap, Mitchell.”

“Natalie, you have no right to—”

“I have every right,” Natalie interrupted him. “Did you know Sally won’t come out of her house? She’s too scared. She keeps seeing Emma on the street, even though Emma’s dead.”

“Then she needs to see someone about it,” Mitchell protested.

Natalie violently kicked a chair. “Do something Mitchell. Or I will.” And she stormed out of the room.

“Naira will be back tomorrow,” Stella informed Lisa.

“Good,” Lisa said. “We were short. Can she work with the sling?”

“In some areas.”

Lisa nodded. “And Alex is coming by to get more of his burn medication.”

Stella nodded, but something nagged at her mind.

Roy shut the curtains of his house. He looked out at the setting sun and sighed. Something bad was going to happen tonight, he could feel it.

He went over to his door and locked all of the locks.

Jeremy was on his last patrol. In the gloom of streetlights, Jeremy was driving back to the police station. Something caught his eye in the distance. He pulled into the parking area near all the chain restaurants and stores.

Jeremy squinted. He could see a long shadow in the lot. Jeremy stopped the car and got out. He unhooked his gun and called out: “Hello? Is anyone there?”

There was barely a sound. Jeremy’s footsteps sounded like a roar in this immense silence. He neared closer and closer, his gun at the ready.

“Is anyone there?” he called again.

He stopped short at what he saw.

There, in front of him, casting the shadow was the body of Abhi Varma. Abhi’s own belt now loose around his neck, his eyes open and red.

Abhi Varma was strangled to death. The eighth victim.

Alex unlocked his front door and stepped in. Something felt odd. It was a weird feeling, but it was nothing. He turned around and shut the door and administered the lock.

He sighed and tossed his key on the coffee table and turned around. Relaxed, he flicked on the light.

Shadows obscured half of Stella’s face. She sat calmly in one of Alex’s chairs, once in the darkness, with her legs gingerly crossed. Her eyebrows fell together when Alex flipped on the light.

Alex jumped, startled.

“Stella.” He pressed a hand to his heart. “What are you—?”

Stella pointed the gun at him. “Not a sound.”

**Chapter 9**

“Stella?” Alex asked. He involuntarily lifted his hands.

Stella stood up, the gun still pointed at Alex. Somehow, it still looked threatening in her small, delicate hands.

“Shut up, Alex,” she snarled. “I’m putting an end to this before you can do anything worse.”

“What are you talking about?” squeaked Alex. Beads of sweat were starting to form on his cool forehead.

She dangerously thrust the gun out towards him. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“No,” he said shaking his head. “I truly don’t Stella. Put down the gun before you do something you’ll regret.”

Stella uttered a laugh. “You actually think I’ll regret shooting you? After you shot Alexia at her doorstep?”

“What?”

“After you brutally slaughtered Kristeen? After you framed Adam and blew him to pieces?” Stella’s voice was rising. Tears were forming in her eyes. “After you bashed Luke in the head and left him like trash?”

“No!” Alex protested.

“After you made Anthony suffer for days, while you watched him like a little boy who burns bugs? You expect me to feel pity?” She was screaming. Her eyes were an intense raging fire as she spat the words at the man in front of her. Her hair fell every which way as her head shook and turned with a fit of emotion and fury. “And you expect me to put down the gun? Even after you trapped three people in the forest and hunted them like animals. Like animals. Killing them like a hunter kills game. You make me sick! You deserve to die.”

“No, Stella.” Alex vigorously shook his head. He was slowly moving to the side. “It’s not me. I swear. Believe me, please.”

“Don’t move,” Stella commanded. She paused for a couple of tense seconds, only the gun pointed at Alex’s chest, before she asked: “How did you burn your hand Alex?”

“What?” He was thrown off by the sudden change in subject.

Stella enunciated every word. “How did you burn our hand?”

“I told you. Cooking.”

“Were you really cooking, Alex?” Stella cocked her head to the side. “Is that how you burned your hand? Or was it when you slipped the pipe bomb into the cell with Adam? Didn’t run away fast enough? Is that how it got burnt?”

“No, Stella,” Alex begged. “No.”

Stella’s finger tensed on the trigger.

Roy woke and got out of bed. He couldn’t sleep. Nowadays, he wondered if anyone could sleep soundly with the knowledge there was a serial killer out there.

He took out a glass and filled it up with cold water. He satisfied his dry throat and set down the empty glass on the granite counter.

Something felt off. He cast a glance at his front door.

Abbi awoke with a start. Police sirens howled somewhere in the tiny town.

Abbi looked around her bedroom dreary-eyed and listened to the irritating sounds of hurry.

“Seriously?” she said to the dark room. “The one time I can sleep in.”

And she buried her head underneath her pillow.

“What about the flat tire?” asked Stella. The gun was held perfectly still, no doubt in her mind. “I heard you are always up in the Cliffs now. Are you returning to the scene of the crime? Is that how you get your kicks?”

“Stella, you’ve got it all wrong.”

“I think I’ve got it pretty right,” she said. “But how I think you really got the flat tire is when you were dropping off Naira, Vincent, and Emma in the forest so you could kill them.”

“No, no, no,” Alex said waving his hands. “I’m innocent, Stella. I didn’t do anything. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve made a huge mistake.”

At that moment, something crashed through the back window. Stella whipped around at the noise to look. Alex immediately tackled her from behind.

Stella fell to the floor screaming. The gun slid away across the hard wood floor. Alex grabbed her by the shirt and threw her to the side on the ground. He stumbled to his feet and stared down at Stella.

Stella was about to say something when another thing caught her eye over in the next room. “Fire,” she whispered. And then louder. “Fire! Fire!”

Alex saw the bright flames curling around his couch and on the rug near the broken back window. His house was on fire.

He grabbed the phone and dialed. “Fire!” he yelled into it. “There’s a fire at my house. Alex Quintanar’s house. My house is on fire!” He hung up the phone and dropped it to the ground, hurrying to leave the house.

Stella got to her feet and caught sight of the gun. She rushed towards it. Alex’s hands slammed into her and she careened into the table and crumbled. She struggled to her feet as Alex ran for the front door.

He grabbed his keys on the coffee table and unlocked the door. Stella wasn’t far behind. Alex wrenched open the door and slipped out. He slammed it behind him and immediately locked it. He could hear Stella pounding against the door behind it.

As Alex got to his car, he could hear sirens of the police and fire department in the distance.

Cailey Stevenson looked out her front window. She could see the smoke billowing from Alex’s house.

She stepped outside in time to see Alex speed away in his car from his burning property.

Cailey ran inside to call the fire department.

Stella’s fists slammed against the wood door. It was useless; she couldn’t break a dead-bolt.

She turned and searched for the gun somewhere on the floor. The fire was getting bigger now. She could see the smoke filling the house; she could taste and smell it too.

She scooped up the gun and stuck it in the waste-band of her jeans. She grabbed onto a chair and hauled it over to the front window. She heaved the piece of furniture into the air and thrust it forward into the glass.

The transparent material shattered, raining bits of glass that reflected the light of the fire. Stella felt the heat on her back from the fire increase from the newly found oxygen that had just rushed in.

Carefully, Stella jumped from the low window onto the ground. Her feet landed with a thump and she could see Alex’s car driving down Rose Street, towards Main.

She ran out onto the street and pointed the loaded gun at the traveling car.

She fired three times, the shots echoing in the night. She then turned and retreated into her house before she could be seen by anyone.

Alex kept driving even though he heard the shots ring out. He knew where to go. He knew where he’d be safe. And Alex kept driving.

It was the first fire, since the explosion that killed Adam if you would count that as a fire, Roy had responded to in months.

He and the others put it out pretty quickly discovering what had caused the fire.

“What the hell happened?” asked Mitchell.

“It looks like someone stuffed a rag in a liquor bottle, set the rag on fire, and tossed it through the window. Bottle shatters when it hits the ground spreading the liquid and there’s the fuel for the fire,” Roy said.

“Was anyone in the house?”

“No,” Roy said and shook his head. “But Alex did make an emergency call saying his house was on fire.”

Mitchell narrowed his eyes and shook his head at the damaged house.

Hannah was giving Matthew a haircut the next morning. She snipped, sculpting the style he wanted, as he chatted.

“Did you hear what happened last night?” Matthew asked. “It’s horrible.”

“No,” Hannah said. “What?”

“Well,” Matt said. “I not one for gossip”—Hannah rolled her eyes— “but Abhi Varma was murdered last night. Strangled with his own belt. Jeremy found him. So this killer’s going after police officers now too.”

“That’s terrible,” Hannah said sympathetically.

“And that’s not the only thing that happened,” went on Matthew. “There was a fire at Alex Quintanar’s house. Alex called, but when they got there, he was missing. And people on the street remember hearing gunshots in the middle of the night. Alex’s still missing. Weird, right?”

“Yeah,” Hannah said uneasily.

“I wonder if Alex is the Greenbury Murderer,” thought aloud Matthew.

“You see,” Natalie shouted in Mitchell’s face. “This is what happens when you don’t do anything. One of your own gets killed. And another person is missing. Is this enough to wake you up, Mitchell? You need to do your job and catch this guy.”

“Does it look like I wanted this to happen?” Mitchell said.

“Well, you didn’t do anything to prevent it, now did you? It’s basically your fault Abhi’s dead,” sneered Natalie.

Mitchell’s face was dangerously frozen by that last comment. His eyes flashed. “Get out.”

“Excuse me?” Natalie said. “Do not tell me what—”

“Get the hell out of here you pathetic news-sucking leech!” he screamed in her face.

Natalie reeled backwards into the wall behind. She glanced one time over her shoulder, pulled the door open, and quickly left.

Julia sat near the police station with her notepad. She was looking at the burnt and cracked area of the police station.

Her pencil ran smooth lines over the paper as she sketched the explosion that killed Adam Gross.

Naira was back in town, getting a ride from Stella that afternoon.

There was something odd about Stella today. She was jumpy. It looked like she was hiding something, almost waiting for it to come out.

Dalia stood behind her pet store counter, engrossed in a book. She set it down and looked out through the window at Greenbury Boulevard. Did she really need a story, a book, when all the drama and suspense was right in front of her?

Gregory checked his watch. Three thirty. It was almost his shift today at Zakieh’s restaurant.

He put on his coat and slipped on his shoes. He needed a distraction from all these murders. That’s all that was talked about now. Murder, murder, murder.

In the papers, in person, just everywhere! Gregory shook his head, it was getting annoying, and he was seriously starting to get scared.

He walked back to the living room to turn off the TV. He grabbed the remote from the couch and pressed the off button.

He looked at the shelf above the fireplace. He could’ve sworn there were two candlesticks there.

And then Y slammed Gregory over the head with the same candlestick.

**Chapter 10**

“So Alex is still missing,” Cailey commented.

“Yup,” Natalie said and took another sip of her coffee. “I think he’s the Greenbury Murderer.”

“Me too,” voiced Nicole. She bit into her croissant.

“He murders nine people and then he gets away and the police don’t even know where he is.” Cailey shook her head. “I don’t feel safe in this town with idiots trying to protect us.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along,” Natalie said.

“Well, he did something right and stopped kids from going to school,” Nicole said. “My job turned to hell when the killing started.”

“I’m really tempted to just move out of this town soon,” Cailey said. “Too many memories.”

“Let’s just hope they find Alex soon,” Natalie said.

The police station was very quiet, very tense. Ever since Abhi’s death a week ago it had been like this.

All of the officers were on edge. This person murdered one of their own. They were a cop killer. All of them wanted revenge.

The Investigator looked at the files. Their brow furrowed as they thought.

An idea was forming in their head. The Investigator was starting to catch onto the killer’s plans.

“Do you think it’ll stop now?” Naira asked Stella as they worked.

“Do I think what will stop now?” asked Stella.

“The killing. Alex has got to be the killer, right? He’s missing. Do you think he ditched town?” Naira moved uncomfortably in her cast and sling. In two weeks, she’d get it off.

“Oh, that?” Stella said and kept her eyes on her work. “Yeah, it’s only a matter of time before the police catch him. And then we can all go back to normal.”

Naira shook her head. “He killed nine people. Things are going to be far from normal.”

Sally sat in her nature center. No one came by anymore, but Sally didn’t care. Abbi and Angela had got her out of her house.

Sally sighed. Was she a victim of the killer’s too? Was the killer taunting her? First Kristeen had been found near her center and then she had found Luke and then came Vincent. And then…Sally shuddered. She had seen Emma die in front of her, sputtering blood.

Sally felt underneath the desk and her fingertips grazed the handle of her gun.

//Just in case…//

William walked about the office building. His shift was almost over. Alex’s office was still empty. The police had been there.

William passed Julia’s office. The door was wide open. William looked inside. Julia wasn’t there.

Julia was hardly at work anymore. So many times she had just suddenly disappeared from work. It was somewhat annoying.

William thought she was going home to paint, but others thought it was something else.

Scattered across Julia’s desk were sketches and pictures of the back of the police station exploding. The death of Adam Gross.

Zoie waited by her car at the gas station as she waited for it to fill up. She sighed and brushed a long strand of her red hair out of her face. Things were getting pretty crazy here in Greenbury.

//I guess you’d expect the order to get a little out of hand after nine people have died//, Zoie thought. Another part of her brain yelled a “No duh!” statement at her.

Zoie heard the click and took the gas dispenser out of her car and replaced the cap. She shut the little cover and got back in her car after paying.

Zoie saw Abbi pull into the gas station. Zoie hurriedly started her car. Zoie didn’t want to be there with Abbi. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to her blab about the murders and idiocy of the police force. Zoie drove away.

Ted finally got a day off from that wretched school. It was for the better too. All these parents calling and screaming at him to cancel school ever since Luke Yee was murdered on campus.

So many people criticized him. How could he let a killer on the campus? Like it was his fault! Greenbury security wasn’t exactly top-notch.

He needed to take a drive.

“How is it, Hannah?” Zakieh asked.

Hannah took another bite of the salad. “It’s pretty good.”

“It’s been so hard and busy since Greg got killed.” Zakieh shook her head. Her hair-sprayed hair kept perfectly in place. “What a shame, you know. I heard he was beaten to death with a metal candlestick.”

Surprisingly, Hannah wasn’t all that hungry anymore with all the talk about the murders, seeing she was almost a victim herself. She slid the plate away from her.

Zakieh didn’t seem to notice. “A candlestick. How odd. It reminds me something from that board game Clue.”

Hannah laughed politely and uneasily. “You know, I have some clients waiting back at my place. I have to go. Thanks Zakieh.” Hannah quickly handed her money and left the diner.

“All right,” Zakieh called after her. “Bye, Hannah.”

“It’s only a matter of time before they catch him,” Alan said to Lisa as he charged her for her groceries.

Lisa nodded her head in agreement. “It’s unbelievable. Nine murders and the police are finally catching on.”

“And now he’s missing,” Alan finished for her.

“I don’t think he did it,” voiced Ryan. He walked up to them, basket half full of food.

“What makes you say that?” asked Alan.

“Don’t you think he would have killed again?” Ryan asked. “He kills Abhi in the night, and then less than a day later he kills Gregory. And then he disappears for a week. That just doesn’t seem right.”

“Well, maybe he skipped town,” Lisa said.

“Yeah, but did you hear the full story of what happened the night Alex disappeared?” Ryan said. “Alex’s house caught on fire. Someone had thrown a lighted liquor bottle through the window. Alex called the fire department, but then disappeared. If he was the killer, then why did someone throw the bottle into his house?”

Lisa gasped. “You’re right!”

“What if someone had figured out he was the killer and thrown the bottle in there to kill him?” Alan said, making a weak theory.

“The why haven’t they come forward?” countered Ryan. “But here’s what I find really interesting. Alex immediately drove away from his house, Cailey says so. And when she saw him driving away, everything in the front was intact. But when the fire department got there and put out the fire, the front window was broken and a chair was outside out the house. Someone else was in the house with Alex!”

Lisa and Alan gaped at Ryan and his information.

“That’s not the full story,” Dalia said, who had overheard the conversation.

“There’s more?” Alan said in disbelief.

“Cailey said she heard gunshots when she was calling the fire department. But when she got outside, there was no one there. I think the person shooting was the same person who threw the vodka bottle.”

“This thing just gets weirder and weirder,” Lisa said and shook her head. She took a glance at her watch. “Well, I have to get home. It’s almost curfew.”

The three others agreed and dispersed, back to shopping, work, and home.

Jeremy drove the dark streets of Greenbury. He saw Angela shut the lights off at her coffee shop and head home. She always kept the shop open as late as she could.

Jeremy continued his slow patrol of the city. An image of Abhi’s body flashed across his eyes. He shuddered and kept his eyes focused on the road.

His headlights caught something. Jeremy squinted as the faint outline of a hanging body came into view. A rope was tied around the throat and it was hanging from a tree on Frost Lane.

“Oh, no,” Jeremy said. “Oh, no, no, no.” He parked his car and got out of it. He clicked on his flashlight and removed the gun from his holster. This seemed strangely familiar to when he found Abhi. “Please, no.”

He crept closer and flashed his light at the body. He suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. Hanging from the tree was a dummy. It was nothing, no one.

Jeremy heard a car door close. He spun around and heard the tires screech against the road and spring the squad car forward towards him.

“Stop!” Jeremy yelled and pointed his gun at the approaching car. The car sped forward, not wavering. Jeremy cursed and ran to the right, trying to get out of the way of the moving vehicle. He fired his gun at the windshield.

His feet pounded against the road, the car closing the distance, and his gun firing at the assailant. And then the gap was filled and the hood of the car met with Jeremy’s legs.

Jeremy crashed into the windshield and rolled over the top, landing behind the car. Jeremy lay on the ground, his legs unmoving, blood streaming from his mouth and nose. The car stopped, its red lights coming into view.

Inside the car, the D was switched to R. A foot pressed against the pedal and the car screeched backwards towards Jeremy, finishing the job.

**Chapter 11**

The second cop killed and the tenth victim. The fabric of society of Greenbury was quickly starting to unravel. No one even ventured out of their house anymore at night. Most everyone made it back to their house an hour before curfew called them to. Many brushed off the dust of old guns and reloaded the weapons, trying every measure to protect themselves from the Greenbury Murderer. And for almost all, the Greenbury Murderer and all the killings were no longer gossip, but now an obsession.

“A week has passed since the murder of Officer Jeremy Chong,” Natalie said as she wrote. “And Alex Quintanar, the suspected Greenbury Murderer, is still missing.”

Natalie took her fingers off her keyboard. There were ten new graves in the cemetery on the outskirts of town, all victims of the growing infamous Greenbury Murderer. There was bound to be a eleventh soon.

“Anything new happen?” Cailey asked Angela as she was handed her coffee.

“Nothing important to me since Jeremy got hit,” Angela remarked. “Run over with his own car. That’s just beastly.”

“And did you hear?” Cailey said. “Mitchell and some of the other cops found a rope hanging from a tree near the place where they found Jeremy and his car.”

“Just a rope?”

“Yeah. Weird, right?” Cailey said. “I wonder what the point of the rope was.”

“Can you get me a table, Zakieh?” asked Harrison politely.

“You seem to be out more,” commented Zakieh. “What made you come down from the hill?”

Harrison answered bluntly: “The murders. Nothing else. Things started to pick up here so I decided to take a look around.”

Zakieh smiled, obviously uncomfortable with this weird man. “Huh.” She grabbed a single menu. “Right this way.” And she led him to his table.

“Perfect,” Julia said and stepped back from her work.

The night twinkled with stars and the glowing moon somewhat lit the darkened sky. The painting would be so peaceful, a quiet town, a worriless night; that is if it wasn’t disturbed by the great and terrible picture in the center of the work. The police station being rocked by the blow of the exploding pipe bomb. The death of Adam Gross.

“Are the kids still bothering you?” Ted asked. He tried to say it as politely as possible since this was a sensitive topic for Nicole.

“Surprisingly, not that much anymore,” she replied happily. “But now it’s starting to get to my head. I’m making curfew by an hour.”

Ted nodded empathetically. “Same here. I have to take something so I can sleep at night. I hope they catch him soon.”

Nicole nodded in agreement.

Roy walked along the sidewalk of Main Street, headed for Zoie’s dry cleaners. He had taken today off. It seems like a good day as any to take off. He needed a break from all the craziness going around.

All these murders were really screwing with people’s heads. Hannah seemed to have somewhat recovered from almost being poisoned, but Naira was so distant now, and Sally, well, she was story all together.

Barely anyone saw her anymore, not even Abbi or Angela. She bought her necessities, went to the nature center early (which barely anyone went to anymore), and then went home.

Then there was Mitchell. Two cops of his dead. Natalie breathing down his neck; probably the whole town against him. Roy was with the rest of his town. When there was a fire, Roy did his job and stopped it. No one was killed. There were hardly any fires, but Roy did his duty and completely his job. Mitchell on the other hand let people die. He couldn’t catch the killer and now ten people were dead. Mitchell needed to do his job.

Roy went into Zoie’s business.

“Hello, Roy,” she said from behind the counter.

“Hey, Zoie.”

“I have your clothes right here,” she said and handed him the correct clothes.

“Thanks.” Roy looked down at the journal of Zoie’s on the counter. On it were most of the people’s names in the town, as well as all the victims, with arrows pointing every which way and side notes describing things. Zoie followed his gaze to her writing. She quickly snapped it closed.

“I’m mapping out everything,” she explained, her face growing red, matching her hair. “It’s hard to keep track of, you know?”

“So do you have any theories?” Roy asked interested.

More pigment flooded her face. “Yeah, some— if you would even call them theories.”

“Well,” Roy said and placed money on the counter and gripped his clothes in his hand, “I say you’re doing a better job than Mitchell.”

“I love it,” Lisa said as she looked at her hair in the mirror. “Thank you so much, Hannah.”

Hannah smiled warmly and set her pair of scissors on the table. “You’re welcome.”

Julia sat waiting on the couch, drawing in her ever-present notebook. Her eyes glanced up and then fell once more down to her pencil and paper.

Ryan sat next to her, waiting his turn. He flipped a page in his book and moved in his seat to become more comfortable.

“Why are you and Ryan here today?” asked Hannah as Lisa stood up.

“Oh, we both have the day off since we haven’t had one in nearly a year. They’re letting the other doctor’s handle today. Why Ryan is here, I have no clue. I guess we just scheduled on the same day.”

“Huh” was the only thing Hannah replied with as she looked at Ryan.

Abbi’s phone found Sally’s voicemail for the seventh time. Finally giving up, she tossed the cell aside and slouched in her seat.

“Why won’t you pick up?” she said.

What was up with Sally? She needed to get help, but Abbi couldn’t help her if Sally was always avoiding her.

Abbi saw Alan walk into the theatre with a bag of popcorn. Dalia entered a few minutes later. Today was a surprisingly bust day.

A thought made its way into the young woman’s head. She shuddered. Both her next door neighbors were dead. One shot at her doorstep, not a house away from Abbi, and the other was abducted in his house. What if that happened to Abbi?

Angela tapped on the glass window of Abbi’s door. Abbi jumped in her chair startled. Angela opened the door.

“What?” Abbi asked.

“Who spit in your food?” Angela remarked at Abbi’s tone of voice.

“Sorry. You just scared me.”

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted to see if Sally will talk to us tonight.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Abbi said and the two started to make plans.

Naira pulled another piece of tape and pressed it to a picture. She then placed the picture against the wall in the correct place.

She narrowed her eyes at the placement of everything, making sure everything made sense. She nodded and made a mark on something and also taped it to the wall.

She looked from picture to picture, from note to note, reading, absorbing everything. Every piece of information. Her wound on her shoulder, slowly scarring, burned as she looked at a place on the wall.

Obsession was creeping in on Naira. Obsession with the murders.

And the thing she was creating on the wall was a map, a guide, to all the murders. Theories, guesses, victims, just everything. And what was the scariest part: who she thought were future victims.

Hannah pulled the key out of the ignition and stepped out of her car. She unlocked her door and went inside, closing the door behind her.

She set her bag on the table, unzipped it, and searched through it. She dug around, pulling her scissors and wallet and day planner and some makeup to find her cell phone. She grabbed it and went around the corner, headed for the living room.

Hannah tossed the phone on the couch and grabbed the remote. She clicked the button and looked up to see a note taped to her TV. She clicked the TV off again and went over to it.

Hannah brow furrowed as she gently took the note from the screen. Written on I was:

//Tick, tock goes the clock,//

//I knock at the door you didn’t lock.//

Hannah’s eyes widened and she let the paper flutter to the floor.

A knock sounded at her front door and her head whipped to the side at the sudden sound. Her chest heaved. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t be going after her again. This was insanity.

Hannah opened the closet door and grabbed the wooden bat propped against the wall. She hefted the weapon up in striking position and crept towards the door.

She didn’t make a sound. She didn’t dare say, “Who’s there?” or “What do you want?” No, she was going to open the door and beat whoever was there to a bloody pulp. She didn’t care who the hell it was.

With a shaky hand, Hannah reached for the doorknob of her front door. Her hand clasped the cold metal and quickly twisted and flung the door open. Hannah jumped back and swung the bat. It hit nothing. She chopped downwards to the side of her porch, then to the other. The only thing the bat hit was the bushes.

Hannah could hear herself breathing as she dared the murderer to come out of where they were hiding. She turned around, back towards her house.

She gasped at what she saw on the door. Another note, also taped. It read:

//As silent as a mouse,//

//I slip inside your house.//

It was definitely time to go. Hannah pressed her hands to her pockets, feeling for her keys.

“Crap,” Hannah whispered. She had left them on the counter. Making a split decision, Hannah ran inside the house. She wheeled around the corner and stopped herself against the counter, the bat still in hand.

“No, no, no,” Hannah said frantically. “Where are they?” She brushed aside objects as she looked for her keys on the counter. “Screw it,” she said and ran for the front door.

She got to her car and gripped the car door. She pulled at it. It wouldn’t budge. “Come on,” Hannah said as she tugged at the door. She looked through the window at what was on the driver’s seat. There, sitting perfectly in the middle, were her keys.

Hannah reared back and smashed the bat into the car window. The glass shattered and Hannah reached in and unlocked the door. She opened it, grabbed her keys, and sat down, not caring she was sitting on glass.

She fumbled with the keys, looking for the ignition. “Where the hell is it?” she said to herself. And then she figured it out. There was no ignition key; the killer had taken it.

Hannah looked up at the steering wheel in shock at the third note.

//Yes I have committed theft,//

//But you don’t have much time left.//

//Go into the street, Hannah. I dare you.//

She was close to tears now. Hannah got out of the car, and looked around. Her faced was flushed, her heart was thumping. Where should she go? Where the hell should she go?

And she ran back into her house to call the police. Again, no one met her on the way in there. She gripped the bat so tight, her knuckles were white.

She grabbed the phone off the hook and pressed it to her ear. She knew before she confirmed it. The phone lines were cut.

Next to the phone was another note, folded so it could be stood up.

//You dial the police in a fear.//

//You’ll be dead by the time they’re here.//

Hannah dropped the phone, it clattered against the floor.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. “Oh, God. Oh, no. Please, no.”

She turned and was met with another note, this time tacked to the wall so she couldn’t see it when she came in. Hannah shook her head. Not another one. She was getting out of here.

Hannah brandished the bat as she read the note.

//As the clock strikes five,//

//I wonder why you’re still alive.//

Hannah’s lip quivered as she turned away from the note. Immediately, her large grandfather clock down the hall rung five times. Even though it was ten at night. Someone was just down the hall messing with her clock.

Hannah took in a shaky breath and lifted the bat higher. She pursed her lips as a drop of sweat slid down the side of her head.

She cocked back and swung the bat as she turned the corner. It collided with the wall, smashing a hole in it. Hannah yanked it back and sprinted down the seemingly empty hallway.

Her feet smashed against the wood and she didn’t dare take a look behind her. Her hand grabbed the door knob and tore the door open.

She had made it. She was alive. And then she looked down at what was on her porch.

Lying there in front of her was the dead, bloody body of Zakieh Alahmed.

And Hannah dropped the bat and screamed. She screamed as she ran into the street, waking everyone in their homes. Screaming to let everyone know there had been another murder. The eleventh murder.

**Chapter 12**

“Scissors?” asked Mitchell. “She was murdered with scissors?”

The FBI agent nodded. “Stabbed with hair scissors.”

Mitchell shook his head and pressed his hands to his forehead. Gruesome, hideous murders occurring in his town. Eleven of them. Two of his officers dead. So many people were dead. This doesn’t happen in Greenbury. Of all places, Greenbury, North Dakota. It didn’t make sense.

“I want every available man and woman out there looking for Alex Quintanar,” Mitchell demanded. “I want him found and brought to me. Now.”

“Oh, shut up, will you?” Z yelled through the door.

Alex screamed again down in the basement. “Please. Please, let me go. I swear I won’t tell. Please!”

“He actually thinks we’re going to let him go?” asked Z baffled.

X rolled their eyes. “He’ll beg and beg until he can’t anymore.”

“Meaning when we kill him,” Z finished.

“Exactly,” Z replied. “Hear that, Alex?” X called down through the door. “When we kill you. It’s coming soon.”

“It just wouldn’t start this morning,” William complained to Matt. “Do you know what’s wrong with it?”

“I can take a look,” Matt said. “Did it make any noise when you tried to start it?”

“No,” William said shaking his head. “Nothing at all. Just dead.”

“Weird,” Matt thought aloud. “I’ll see what I can do.” He suddenly changed subjects. “Hey, do you know what’s up with Julia. She’s painting all those pictures and stuff. I’m kind of worried about her.”

William shrugged his shoulders. “Your guess is as best as mine. Ever since these murders, she’s been getting all freaky.”

“I saw the three of her paintings,” Matt said. “There good, but, it’s just creepy, you know.”

“At least you don’t have to work with her.”

Sally sat in her nature center. A noise sounded through the place. Sally sat up in her chair. Her hand immediately reached towards the gun under the desk.

“Hello?” she called. “Who is it?”

The sound of heels against floor reached her ears. Abbi and Angela rounded the corner to see Sally.

“It’s just us,” Abbi said.

“Relax, Sally,” Angela said and put her hands up in a soothing manner.

“Go away,” Sally demanded.

“Sally, we need to talk.” Abbi came closer.

“We want to help,” Angela said.

But Sally knew what they really wanted. They wanted to kill her. She could see it in their eyes. Everyone wanted to kill her. Everyone was out for her. She couldn’t trust anyone.

She pulled up the gun and aimed it at the advancing women. “Get back.”

Immediately, Angela and Abbi’s hands stuck up. Both stumbled backwards with wide eyes and open mouths.

“Put the gun down, Sally,” Angela warned.

“Don’t do it, Sally. We want to help you,” Abbi followed.

“Shut the hell up,” Sally seethed and stood up. “I said get out. I know what you’re here for.”

“We’re here to help you,” Abbi tried to convince her.

“Stop lying to me!” Sally screeched. She fired the gun away from the women. The bullet shattered the window over to the side.

Angela screamed and covered her ears, her eyes were squeezed shut. Abbi grabbed Angela’s wrist and pulled her out of the nature center, away from the woman with the loaded gun.

Hannah opened her salon again. A dark hoodie was pulled over her head concealing her blonde hair. Bags under her bags cast shadows on her face and her eyes were nervous and posture slouched.

She still hadn’t recovered from the shock of Zakieh’s death. She actually hadn’t slept in her house since that night four days ago. She had been staying at a friend’s somewhere else in town.

But she had a business to run. She got through this once, she could do it again. She closed the elaborate glass door behind her and switched the sign to Open. She sighed and flicked on the lights, illuminating the small salon. Her employees should be getting here soon.

Hannah placed her bag on the table and started to get ready for today’s clients. She straightened the chairs, restacked the magazines, and changed the dates on the stamps. She did anything to keep her mind off the murders.

She looped her fingers through the hole in her scissors and removed them from their place. Hannah looked at the tool and then screamed.

The scissors clattered to the floor as Hannah backed up. The blades of the scissors were covered in blood. Zakieh’s blood.

Dalia walked across Greenbury Boulevard from her pet store. She was headed for the park with the three dogs she was walking. She walked along the sidewalk, bouncing to the beat of the music coming from her iPod.

Dalia tossed a strand of hair over her shoulder. A car zoomed by at an incredible speed. Dalia stumbled forward and yanked on the leashes for the dogs to get away from the street.

“What the hell?” Dalia yelled after the car Abbi was driving. “Slow down.”

“Do you have any Diet Coke?” Stella asked Naira.

“I just bought some, actually,” Naira said. She left to her kitchen. She pulled the carbonated drink into a glass with ice and returned to Stella. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Stella said and took a drink.

Naira’s eyes brightened suddenly. “Hey, I want to show you something.”

“Okay,” Stella said with an odd look on her face. “What is it?”

“You’ll know when you see it.” Naira pulled Stella by the arm, leading her into another room, all the while Stella was trying not to spill her drink. When they were there, Naira spread her arms out wide and said: “Ta-dah!”

Stella’s glass slipped from her hand and shattered against the floor. She stared at the wall covered with pictures and names and notes. All about the murders.

“What’s the matter with you?” Naira asked.

“What is this?” Stella exclaimed.

“I’m really close to finding out who the killer is,” Naira bragged. “I’m just missing a few key things.”

“Is Alex the killer?” Stella came forward, hoping for an answer.

“I don’t know,” Naira said; Stella’s face fell. “What’s going on with you?”

Stella looked away. She took a breath and said: “I may be the reason Alex is missing.”

“What?” Naira asked in disbelief.

“I confronted him and somehow the house caught on fire—” Stella let it all pour out— “and he locked me in and drove away. I got out and fired at his car.”

“Wait, you have a gun?” Naira asked.

“Of course I have a gun,” Stella replied. “Everyone has a gun here. And after I shot, I went into my house before anyone could see me. If Alex is the killer, I think I scared him into hiding and now he’s killing and we can’t find him. It’s all my fault!”

“No,” Naira said. “We’ll find him. Eventually.”

Roy was picking up his dry cleaning again.

Zoie smiled at her customer. “Let me just get them from the back.” She turned and left for the back of the store.

Roy wasted no time. He hopped over the counter and looked at the shelf that was out of sight. He grabbed the little journal he had seen before and stuffed it in his coat pocket. He slid over the counter again, returning to his appropriate side.

Zoie came back a few long seconds later. “Here you go,” she said and handed him his clothes.

Roy thanked her, paid her, and left the young woman who he had just stolen from.

“What do you think, Alan?” Julia asked Alan at the register. She held up a colored drawing of Hannah. Hannah was sitting at her table holding a glass of chardonnay in the waning sunlight. A large bottle rested on the table next to her and Hannah wore a golden and shimmering dress and pearls round her neck. She looked more like a goddess than an actual human being.

“Wow,” Alan said. “That is—that’s good.”

“Thank you,” Julia said sweetly. “I’m getting ready to paint it and I want to get as many opinions as possible.”

“Well, I like it.”

Natalie decided to do a special article in the paper today. An article remembering all the victims of the Greenbury Murderer. Stone-faced, Natalie typed out the material and the heart-felt words of sorrow Natalie didn’t really mean.

All Natalie kept thinking was, //Eleven victims. Eleven sorry victims. Who will the twelfth be?//

Alex bumped around in the back of the rented pick-up truck. A cover with drilled air holes kept him contained and inside the truck as the killers drove him somewhere.

“Help me!” Alex screamed hoping someone would hear him. “Help me, please!” He slammed his feet against the top of the cover. It rattled. He didn’t know whether this was because they were driving or it was loose.

He reared back and kicked again. He heard something go loose.

Thank God for old trucks, Alex thought. He kicked again. A small amount of light seeped into the back of the truck. Full of adrenaline, Alex banged against the cover again and again. The back two sides of the cover can loose and the containment slid to the side.

The hungry and beaten Alex didn’t even think about it; he threw himself from the moving car.

He landed on his side and then his arm and started to roll. Pain exploded throughout his entire body. He pressed his other arm against the dirt road and forced himself up. Freedom.

He stumbled away from the road and heard the truck stop behind him. He picked up speed, hobbling. He somewhat ran down the hill, headed for the concealment of the forest.

“There!” he heard Z yell. “There he is!”

“Give me that,” commanded X. Alex kept running. He heard a gun go off. The bark on the tree near him flew in all directions as the bullet collided with it.

“Shoot him,” Z urged. “Shoot him.”

“I’m trying!” X said.

Another bullet embedded itself into the ground near Alex’s feet. So close…

Another fired shot and then he was falling. He hit the ground face first, blood seeping into the dirt.

“I think you got him.” Z’s voice was distant. “Is he dead?”

“I think so,” X said. “If not, he’ll be dead by morning. Let’s go.”

Alex heard them get back in the truck and drive off, the gravel crunching under the tires.

But Alex wasn’t dead.

Zoie looked at the time. It was almost time to close up and leave. She started to pack her things when she heard a sound in the back.

Zoie whipped around to look. It all seemed fine. She peered around the corner, looking into nothing. She was probably just imagining things. But just in case, Zoie grasped the Taser under the counter.

She turned around and jumped to see the person standing in front of her.

“Oh, it’s just you,” she said and pressed a hand to her heart.

“Yeah,” Z said. “Just me.”

“So I’m guessing you’re here for your clothes?”

“Yeah,” Z replied.

“All right, let me just—” Zoie was cut off when Y forced the plastic cover over Zoie’s head. Zoie sucked in for air, only inhaling thin plastic restricting her airways. Her face was outlined in the plastic as she struggled.

Z stood there at the counter calmly as Y did their work.

Alex stumbled through the forest, his hand pressed against the wound in his side. It had stopped bleeding some time ago, but he was feeling a bit woozy and lightheaded.

Alex’s foot caught on a root and he fell for the tenth or so time. He got back up and walked on.

He was determined to make it. He was determined to make it out alive.

**Chapter 13**

Naira sat on her couch, a warm cup of tea sitting on a saucer on the stand next to her. Her legs were spread out relaxed as she made a mark in a dark purple notebook of her. She drew an arrow from one small taped picture to another. Naira was trying to catch the killer again.

A thump sounded against her door. Naira’s head turned towards it. It wasn’t a knock; more like someone had just reached out and let their arm hit the wood.

Naira looked at the clock on the wall. Five minutes to curfew.

“Hello?” Naira called. “Who is it?”

No answer. Naira set down the notebook and stood up. She crept towards the door with suspicious narrowed eyes. Her hand wrapped around the black, newly bought crowbar leaned against the wall in its proper place.

“Hello?” Naira tried again. Silence. “Answer me.” Nothing. Slowly, Naira reached out and unlatched one of the locks on her door. She held the crowbar steady in her hand. She listened for any movement and when she heard none, pinched the dead-bolt with her fingers and disabled it.

She pulled open the door and jumped back, brandishing the weapon. She didn’t see anyone or anything. The she looked down and screamed. Just like Hannah had seen with Zakieh, Alex lay dead on Naira’s front porch.

He lay face down on the ground, his blood seeping into the welcome map.

Naira ran back inside for the phone.

Roy closed Zoie’s notebook and set it on the table. He sat back in his cushioned chair, the glow of the fire from his fireplace illuminating only half his face.

He had read through the entire journal at least five times, made copies of every single page and stored them away; hell, he could even recite the first half if you wanted him too. And now Zoie was dead. The same day—two days ago to be exact—that he had stolen her journal. Wouldn’t it look a bit suspicious if Roy was found with her journal?

Gently and gingerly, Roy picked up the journal and looked at the modest black cover. He sighed, and then quickly tosses the little book into the flames. He watched as the papers caught fire and slowly burnt to ash before his eyes.

Roy thought he was safe, that he wasn’t being watched. That all evidence was destroyed. But he was wrong. Someone was always watching. The Investigator was watching.

“Give me the details,” Natalie said. “I want to know what happened.”

“You know I can’t do that, Natalie,” Mitchell said.

“You know I’m going to find out anyway. I always do.”

“And that is one of your most annoying traits.”

“So I’m guessing Alex isn’t the Greenbury Murderer,” Natalie said.

Mitchell gave up. “I don’t think he is. He was missing and then suddenly he appears dead on Naira’s doorstep.”

“In the pictures, it looks like he was shot,” Natalie said.

“He was. Someone shot him. We just don’t know who. But what I want to know is where we was for the times he was missing.”

“I’m not going to work.” Hannah shook her head. “No way in hell.”

“I don’t blame you,” Dalia said as they made a turn around the track. “Why is the killer targeting you? Of all people, a hair salon owner.”

Hannah shook her head. “I don’t know.” Her dog, Sara, trotted at her heels, trying to keep up on her short legs. “I’m thinking about moving away if they don’t catch him soon. Or go into Witness Protection, whichever is safer.”

“Nice plan,” Dalia said.

“Oh my God,” breathed Angela as she set down the newspaper. Zoie Telkamp murdered? Murdered! And now Alex.

Angela jumped up and ran for the door, her keys jingling in her pocket. She grabbed her long coat off the rack and raced out the door.

She knew who the killer was.

“It’s almost lunch,” commented Ted as he looked his watch. School was back in.

“Yes,” Nicole said. “And the sky is blue.”

Ted rolled his eyes. “I’m going to go home to have lunch. Way too much chaos here.”

“Thanks for leaving me here to the wolves,” Nicole said.

“You’ll be fine,” Ted said as he moved from around his desk. “It’s only lunch.”

“Whatever,” Nicole grumbled. The rush of kids and their “problems” were starting to come back again.

“I must say,” Harrison said, “this is delicious.”

“Thanks,” Cailey said with an odd look on her face. She still wasn’t used to seeing Harrison around town. She didn’t think anyone was really used to seeing Harrison out of his house.

“What is this flavor again?”

Cailey raised her eyebrows. “Vanilla.”

“No, not that one,” Harrison corrected her and pointed to the other flavor in his cup with his little plastic spoon. “This one.”

“Rocky Road,” Cailey replied. “You’ve never had Rocky Road?”

“I was missing out!” Harrison took another spoonful of the treat.

Cailey smiled politely, but then rolled her eyes once Harrison wasn’t looking.

“Well, goodbye for now,” Harrison said after he paid her. “I have plans to fulfill.”

“Hey,” Angela said to Z. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” Z said. “Come on in. Would you like a drink?”

“Yes, thank you,” Angela said. “I’ll make this quick because I need to get back to coffee shop. My lunch is almost over.”

“Mine too,” Z said from the kitchen and came back with two drinks. Z took a drink of theirs after they handed Angela hers. “Please, take a seat.”

Angela sat and crossed her legs as she took a sip of her drink.

“What did you want to talk about?” Z asked.

“Someone asked me to ask you where you were two days ago around curfew. I’m not trying to say anything or whatever, but it’s easier to just ask you than to go on and lie to this person,” Angela said. She took another drink.

“I understand,” Z said. “I was at home watching TV.”

“Are you sure?” Angela asked. She closed her eyes hard, trying to get them to focus.

“Of course I’m sure.”

Angela’s lips pursed and she stood up. She felt unbalanced. She pulled out the small handgun conceals in her coat and pointed it at Z. She was slurring her words. “I know you’re the—the Greenbury Murderer.”

“Oh, Angela,” Z said sadly. Angela stumbled, the gun moving in all directions. “I know you know.”

Everything was getting blurry. Angela’s legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor. The darkness closed around her eyes and she lost consciousness.

“Just hold still,” Stella said as she sewed Matt’s gash on his hand, which he got from cutting tomatoes, close.

“It stings,” he complained.

“Get over it, you baby,” she said and continued working.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to use that tone of voice towards patients.”

“That’s funny because this is how you treat your customers.”

Matthew turned a shade of bright red.

“Hey, Matt,” Stella said after a minute of silence. “Did you see anyone go into Zoie’s when she was—you know...”

“Killed.” Matt said bluntly. “No, I didn’t see anyone.”

“Oh,” was the only thing Stella responded with.

Angela pulled against the handcuffs around her wrist. It was dim in the room she was in. Where was she?

“Help!” she yelled. Her throat was raspy. “Someone help me. Can anyone hear me?”

The place seemed sound proof.

Angela turned her head. Written on the wall, not five feet away, were the words: Alex was here.

Angela screamed.

“I’m liking this one best,” Julia said as she showed off her newest painting. She was worked non-stop on this one. It was basically a portrait of Hannah Erickson holding chardonnay.

She sure does paint fast, William thought.

“I like this one too,” Will said. That was the truth. But he didn’t mention the fact that he liked this one best because it didn’t show any of the deaths.

“I can’t wait to start my next one.” Julia was almost bouncing up and down like an over excited child.

“What is it?” William asked hesitantly.

“Luke Yee’s death. Beaten to death with a shot put.”

William cringed.

Ryan was talking with Alan in the parking lot in front of one of the chain restaurants.

“Have you seen Angela lately?” he asked. “I didn’t see her at the coffee shop.”

“I saw her this morning,” Alan said and shrugged. “When did you go?”

“This afternoon,” Ryan said. “She wasn’t there. One of the employees said she left for her lunch break and just never came back.”

“That’s weird,” Alan replied. “But she’s probably with Abbi or something trying to get Sally back to normal.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “That’s a possibility.”

“Open up, Roy,” Naira said as she pounded impatiently against his door.

“What do you want?” he asked bitterly when he answered.

“I need to show you something very important,” she said. Roy could tell she was waiting to be invited inside.

“Come in.” Naira slipped past him and went to his table. She started laying out papers and pictures as she talked. “I discovered something amazing. And I came to you because I didn’t think the police would believe me, even though they’re idiots. So I came to you since you’re smart and can handle stuff and you work at the fire station.”

“Okay,” Roy said with edginess. “Get to the point.”

Naira grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him over to a picture. “Look.” It was the picture of Alex on Naira’s porch. “See how is so awkwardly posed. It’s like he wanted us to look for something.”

“M’kay,” Roy said looking. “What is it?”

“Don’t you see it?” Naira exclaimed. “He’s telling us who the Greenbury Murderer is!”

“Wait, what?”

“He’s pointing to the L on the Welcome mat,” Naira said. “Lisa Bok is the Greenbury Murderer.”

“I’m sorry,” Lisa said. “I really am. I never wanted for this to happen.”

Angela was curled as far away from the murderer as possible. She didn’t dare interrupt the woman, just let her talk.

The skin on Angela’s wrist was starting to rub raw from the handcuffs. A night had passed since she had woken up in Lisa’s basement as a captive, the same place Alex was held against his will.

“I just—” Lisa stopped herself and shook her head. “It was a game at first. It was some spice to this horridly boring town. It gets to your head: the boredom, the routine, the tedious way of life. It just makes a person go //crazy//!”

Angela flinched.

“I guess we were just so tired of it all,” Lisa said. Her hands were moving in all directions to describe her movements, but her eyes were angled towards the floor out in front of where she was sitting.

//We? // Angela thought. //There are more of them?//

“I don’t remember when it stopped being a game and we were actually serious about it. It seemed so amazing at the time. What would come of it and all. The Greenbury Murderer. The name sounded so nice, so intriguing. We would become legends; bring drama and interest to this pathetic town. And then we would suddenly disappear. The Greenbury Murderer would just vanish and never be caught. We would be another Jack the Ripper.” Lisa looked over at Angela. Angela turned her head farther away from the murderess. “No, I get it. You can’t look at me. I’m a monster. I killed Adam, I nearly beat Anthony to death, I strangled Abhi with his own belt, I stabbed Zakieh with Hannah’s scissors, and I just watched calmly as Zoie died in front of me. I never even questioned what I was doing until now. I made myself sick. I urged the other on to shoot down Alex. I wanted him to die. I was just so happy there was something going on, something to look forward to. And it was //me// that was talked about. The Greenbury Murderer. Part of the Greenbury Murderer is me, and I loved it.”

Lisa’s voice changed to curiosity. “How did you know it was me, Angela?”

Angela did not respond.

“You saw me come out of Zoie’s dry cleaners, didn’t you?”

Angela nodded. “I didn’t think of it until I found out Zoie was dead and then I remembered…”

“And you came over to end it all,” Lisa finished. “You were never supposed to come. I never wanted you to die. This was never part of the plan. I am sorry. I am so sorry.”

Lisa started to ascend the stairs to the first floor. At the moment Lisa shut the door, Angela started to scream again. Not words, just screams of torture and fear.

“This is crazy,” Roy said to Naira. “Just because Alex may be pointing to an L on the welcome mat doesn’t mean the killer is Lisa.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“It has to be,” Naira pressed. “Why else would he do that? He is, flat-out no question about it, pointing at the L.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“But Lisa,” Roy argued. “Lisa Bok: the Greenbury Murderer. Is that even possible? You work with the woman for God’s Sakes.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">After a pause, Naira said, “Anything’s possible.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Where is she?” Abbi demanded as she forced her way into Sally’s home.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Sally looked around in surprise. She didn’t have a weapon anywhere. Her gun was at the nature center. “Where’s who?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Oh, so now you’re talking?” sneered Abbi. “Where the hell is Angela?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I—I don’t know.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Yes you do,” Abbi roared. “What did you do to her? Did she try and come by again? Did you actually shoot her that time, huh? What happened!”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“She didn’t come,” Sally insisted, becoming very frightened.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Abbi rushed towards her. Sally started to fall back in alarm. Abbi gripped a fist full of Sally’s shirt and pulled her close. “Listen up.” Sally could feel the warm breath on her face. “If you did anything to her then God help you, I’ll make sure the police can’t even identify your body. Got it?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Sally hastily nodded.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Natalie had heard a rumor from Stella that Naira had supposedly discovered who the Greenbury Murderer was.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Natalie raised her eyebrows. “Really,” she said to herself. “Naira figured it out. I’m going to have to have a little talk with her.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Natalie got up to meet Naira.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">There was no point in trying to reason with her now. Julia had exited from the world; consumed in her precious paintings.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">William had given up trying to work with her, she barely talked, that is except if her paintings or the murders were brought up.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Julia’s pencil streaked across the shaded and lined page for the millionth time as William desperately tried to get her attention.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Forget it,” he said and left Julia alone to herself.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">The news was spreading across the town like a wildfire. Naira had solved the case of the Greenbury Murderer. It was just no one knew who she suspected.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Is it true?” Ryan asked Mitchell. “Does Naira know?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“It’s just a rumor,” Mitchell said. “I have to talk to her.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“So you don’t know if she right?” Hannah asked.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Or even who she suspects,” Ryan shot in.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Let me do my job,” Mitchell said.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Why?” criticized Ryan. “So another person can get killed?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” Mitchell warned.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Face it, Mitchell,” Hannah spat. “You’re doing a horrible job. I was nearly murdered and you said you would protect me. I know now that was a complete lie.” Mitchell tried to protest, but the woman cut him off. “I have had an article published about my near death: something you said wouldn’t get out. I have been the source of so much gossip and rumors, overhearing them most of the time. I have been tormented and harassed by the murderer, becoming a pawn in their sick game. And I have found the murder weapon just sitting nicely in my business //covered in blood//. It’s a miracle I haven’t gone completely insane! You need to do your damn job!” Hannah screamed her last sentence. “I’m through with you.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Hannah whipped around and exited the building, slamming the door behind her. Mitchell was left gaping.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">After a shot and completely silent pause, Ryan simply said, “You had it coming.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Harrison hadn’t been here in a while. The library was so calm, so peaceful. But there was still that awful mood that hung over like a bad stench: the knowledge that the owner was the first victim to be murdered.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Hi, Harrison.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Harrison looked up from his novel at the owner of the happy voice. It was Dalia.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Hello, Dalia,” Harrison responded. Usually, people never engaged in conversation with him unless it was for business. “How are you today?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Just fine,” she replied cheerily. She clutched a murder mystery book in her arms. “I was just wondering if I could sit here. You look lonely.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Harrison was used to being lonely. He didn’t mind it one bit. He found people…irritating, annoying. Well, most people. Dalia, on the other hand, seemed nicer and interesting.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Sure,” Harrison said motioning to the seat next to him. “Go ahead.” Dalia seated herself next to him and laid down her book.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“What are you reading?” asked Dalia.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“//The Shining// by Stephen King,” Harrison said.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Oh, that is a scary book,” Dalia said.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I don’t get scared easily.” At one part in the book, only just last week, Harrison had run around his house turning on all the lights because he was so scared. “How about you?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“//The A.B.C. Murders// by Agatha Christie,” Dalia said. “I read //And Then There Were None// and just fell in love with her books. You should read it.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I already have.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Where’s Naira today?” asked Lisa.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“At home,” Stella replied. “I’m worried about her. She’s becoming obsessed with these murders. She was with Roy all night long discussing it. I heard that she might even know who the Greenbury Murderer is.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Really?” Lisa said with a raise of her eyebrows.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I hope she’s right,” Stella said. “I just want this all to be over.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“So do I.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“So I heard that that Naira chick may have figured out who the killer is,” Matthew gossiped as Cailey scooped his ice cream.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Cailey handed him his cone. “It’s sad Naira, the nurse, discovered who it was faster than the police.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“You’re not the only one who thinks Mitchell is an idiot,” Matt said.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Mitchell not an idiot,” Cailey said. “Anyone in his position would be messed up. You have people in your town around you just dropping like flies.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I’ve seen him: bloodshot eyes, files everywhere he goes, people constantly screaming at him. I mean, seriously, two of his cops are dead. Do people seriously think he’s not trying? I’ve been to talk with him; he stays up at night so late pouring over evidence and suspects. These murders have become his life.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Where are you?” Naira said to herself. Roy was supposed to be back. They were going to go to Lisa’s house. Naira was so sure she was the killer. Roy still hadn’t returned from his job. Naira hadn’t even gone to work today, she had been so caught up in the excitement of discovery she couldn’t bear focus on anything else.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">And now it was time to take things into her own hands again.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I ought to just die,” Lisa said to Angela. “I ought to just shoot myself in the head and end all this madness.” Lisa was crying. “I’m a monster. I don’t deserve to live.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Angela didn’t deny it.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I’m going to do it,” she said. “I’m going to write a letter, I’m going to tell everyone what I did, and what the others did. I’m going to stop it all.” Lisa got up and took a rag from the drawer. “Please don’t look at me. I don’t want you to see me like this.” Lisa tied the rag around Angela’s eyes as Angela squirmed blind. Lisa then tied Angela’s other hand to her handcuffed hand so she couldn’t take the rag off her face.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Lisa started to go up the stairs.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Wait!” Angela screamed. “Where are you going? You can’t just leave me like this!”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Its better this way,” Lisa said.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Hello?” Nicole said waving her hands. “//Hello?//”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I’m sorry, what?” Ted said and looked up from his papers.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I said what are you working on?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Oh,” Ted replied airily. “Nothing. Just a lot of school things nowadays.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“What the matter with you?” Nicole asked. “You seem so distant and off today.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I’ve…I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">The Doctor looked hesitantly through Lisa’s window. They saw her sitting at her table, head in her hands, leaning over a blank sheet of paper. The Doctor had been watching for a while.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">They carefully gripped the back doorknob and slowly opened the door. They stepped inside and gently closed the door behind them. They crept towards the one door they were after.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Hello?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">The Doctor froze.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Hello? Who’s there?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">The Doctor stood completely still, waiting for Lisa to continue her letter.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">After a long and terrifying minute, the Doctor started moving again. Their heart pounded in their chest at each step.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">They slipped out a gloved hand and opened the basement door. It creaked slightly, not enough to notice though, and the Doctor hurried down the stairs.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Angela was turning her head in all directions at the sound of the tiniest noise.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“What do you want?” she asked, terrified. “Don’t hurt me. You said you didn’t want to hurt me. Please—”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">The Doctor pressed a delicate finger to their lips. “Shh,” they said. “I’m not Lisa.” They were masking their voice. “I’m here to get you out of here. I can’t let you see or else when you get out of here, the other killers might go after me.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Just get me out here,” pleaded Angela.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">The Doctor untied Angela’s hand and then took out a handcuff key. “All keys to handcuffs are the same.” She un-cuffed Angela and helped her to her feet. Angela clutched onto the Doctor as they led the unseeing girl up the stairs. The Doctor peaked through the basement door, holding onto Angela.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Don’t make a sound,” the Doctor commanded. “Follow me, okay? Trust me.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Angela nodded and the Doctor led her quietly through the house. Their feet silently pressed against the wooden floor; Lisa still sitting at her table.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">The Doctor opened the door and Angela stumbled out. They closed the door behind them and the Doctor grabbed hold of Angela’s arm.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Run,” they commanded. The Doctor led Angela away from Lisa’s house and to the safety of their car.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Naira slipped into Stella’s house, given that she had a key. Stella wasn’t home, though her shift had ended.

//<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Probably looking for me //<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">, Naira thought.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">She was only here for a specific thing. And naira knew where that thing was. She always knew where Stella hid her things. Naira made her way to Stella’s hiding spot. She opened the little cabinet door that were under the sink and looked up. On the bottom of the porcelain sink was a hand gun, the same one she threatened Alex with. It was duct taped to it. Naira shook her head at the simplicity.

//<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">I’ll just be borrowing this //<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">, Naira thought as she grabbed the gun.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Lisa wrote on the paper for the fifteenth time. She thought this time she really meant what she was writing.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">It read:

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Before I begin, I must tell everyone I am sorry. I am a horrible person and I deserve to die. And that is why by the time you read this, I’ll be dead. I am going to end it all.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">I am sorry for all that I have done. I cannot express that enough. Not even death can make up for the horror I have committed. I hate myself more than anyone can imagine or think of. It is difficult for me to describe how disgusted I am in myself. And that’s why I’m going to stop and end everything.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Down below in my basement, you will find Angela Caetta. I did not harm her. Down in my basement is where we also kept Alex Quintanar. Like an animal. I look back on what I have done and I am horrified. I am not asking for forgiveness. I do not deserve it.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">And now it is time to end it all. The names of my accomplices are—

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">X and Y burst in through her front door. Lisa’s head snapped up.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“What are you doing here?” Lisa asked startled.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“We can’t let you do it,” Y said.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Do what?” Lisa asked innocently.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“We know what you’re planning to do. We know about Angela too. She knew, didn’t she?” X said.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I don’t care if you want to back out; you are not dragging me down with you!” Y yelled.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“What are you talking about?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“You can’t back out now.” X shook their head.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“We won’t let you,” Y finished.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I—” Lisa was cut off as X fired their gun. Lisa fell back in her seat, her back slamming into the table. She gasped for breath as three holes in her shoulder and chest seeped blood. She sputtered, trying to form a word, but failed. Gradually, her breathing lowered and her heart slower, and then Lisa Bok died. Z was finally dead.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“A shame,” X said shaking their head. “She was such a good and clean killer. A natural. Too bad she couldn’t handle it.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I don’t see why you all like things clean and neat. I like things a little out of control. People remember the gruesome murders,” Y said. “They were talking about Kristeen’s death for days.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Let’s get rid of Angela and get the hell out of here,” X said. They made their way to the basement, leaving a body and a blood-stained, unfinished note.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">The serial killers descended the flight of stairs and turned on the lights.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“What the hell?” exclaimed Y.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Where is she?” X asked, baffled.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Angela was not there. She had been saved by the Doctor.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Where have you been?” Naira demanded to know.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Some of us have jobs to work,” Roy replied. “And where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I must have turned it off, sorry,” Naira said, still angry. “Are you ready?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“You had better be right about this,” Roy warned.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“I am,” Naira said. “Don’t worry.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">They walked to Naira’s car and got in. Naira quickly started the car and they started to drive, rather hastily, towards Lisa’s house.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“What do we say if we can’t find any proof she’s the killer?” Roy asked while they drove. “We’ll be her next targets!”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“There will be evidence everywhere,” Naira said, keeping her eyes on the road in front of her. “I guarantee it.”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">They pulled up at Lisa’s house. It seemed deathly quiet. They made their way up to the front steps. Roy knocked on the door. The weight of the gun Naira was concealing was heavy. Roy had no idea Naira was armed.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“No answer,” Roy said.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Try and see if it’s unlocked,” Naira suggested.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“That’s breaking and entering,” Roy protested.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Well, then get the hell over it,” Naira said. “Move.” She went to the door and simply opened it. “Was it that hard?”

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Roy just glared at her.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">“Now,” Naira said moving into the house, “let’s see what Lisa is—” She cut herself off as she let out a scream. Sitting in a chair at her table was the dead body of Lisa Bok.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">The police and FBI had found one of the killers, but now they knew there were two more. The note, proven it had been written by Lisa, confirmed that. They had also found a list of people.

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Stella Aghakian **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Mitchell Aslo **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Abigail Berry **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Angela Caetta **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Sally Choi **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Alan Chung **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Naira Demirchian **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Ted DeVirgilis **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">William Dougall **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Hannah Erickson **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Dalia Farazdaghi **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Ryan Hyun **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Roy Kim **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Matthew Neumann **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Harrison Pyros **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Natalie Schmidt **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Julia Stanford **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Cailey Stevenson **

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">Nicole Szalay-Fiumani **

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">All were future victims. The police decided to place all of these people in hiding until the two killers were caught and arrested. And then it would all be over and everyone could return to normal.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">But what no one knew is that X and Y had anticipated and planned Lisa’s death. It wasn’t going to end here. They were just getting started.

**<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 18.66px;">END OF PART I **