The innocent Murderer

A short story about the rights and wrongs of a higher authority.

              The innocent murderer                                    

          The trail of subdued clues becomes cold and fruitless as I take the role of God, Who will aid me in the ordeal of overwhelming pain, shock, exhaustion and grief? If I play role of God, then who will play the role of the innocent man that is believed to preformed righteousness? Who am I to come between life and death? Who am I to decide the beginning the middle and end? Who am I? Who am I?
        My memory soon begins to fade off into oblivion, leaving me with only the distinct sound of giggles and smiles on a content face, the caress of textured soft hair beneath my fingers and palm, murmur of conversation of spewing thoughts and elaborate sensations.
        I close my eyes attempting to ignore the burning, pulling, pulsing, stinging pain in my neck muscles being caused by the dreaded rope that is pulling and tearing away my neck from my torso and shoulders. My pain grows more and more agonizing in this blindingly dark, empty playground of the criminal mind. To her, humankind needed to suffer and feel this pain, today I was humankind.

        I rummaged through the stack of papers and files filled and crammed with information about recent events that will soon be history. I read and skimmed then skimmed and read. I reflected on events and connected them together. I paced around searching for more files overflowing with information. I paced around some more then walked over to my desk and slip in my big black hard-earned office chair. I settled the overflowing files down on my big wide wooden desk, leaned back in my chair, close my eyes and reflected, connected, and recalled. I opened my eyes and unearthed the targeted place, it was a decaying, abandoned burned down apartment building, the perfect place for a twisted mind to hide so cowardly. My impure thoughts elaborate, scattered and engulfed my thoughts of righteousness and authority. I enveloped my gun to calm myself down.
           “This will all be over soon. This is the end of the line, there is no where else to go, no where else to escape.” I picked up my cell phone, dialled then held it to my ear then listened closely to the constant ringing then the opening of the line.
 
          “The target has been found, I will be heading in, and there will be no need for backup.”
   I said for the thousandth time before this continues case, I never once was wrong about not needing back up.
           “Understood, be careful sir.” The dispatcher said firmly.
           “There will be no need for that.”
      I sever the line of communication and placed the phone in my pants pocket. I soon proceeded into the play ground of the criminal mind once more. I couldn't understand why this particular criminal was so difficult to track down. This one didn’t have elaborate plans or schemes. All this scumbag did was work silently, and escaped cowardly from one place to another. This scared and frustrated the police force. There was no pattern to this scum’s constant escapes or victims. It didn’t matter now anyway, this was the end. I had this sick twisted murderer in my grasp and I couldn't let go.
             I examined the first floor thoroughly; it surprised me that this scumbag didn’t settle on this floor since it was less damaged then the other floors in this building. The walls and floor were blackened with ash and soot. Bits and pieces of wall, carpet and pipes overlapped and littered the ground. I continued to climb more burned and tattered stairs. I felt a sense of insecurity so I reached for my gun, pulled it out from its gun case and held it out in front of me as I got close to a door. As I was about to reach for the knob less door I heard a rustling sound in the direction behind me. I immediately turned around holding the gun out in front of me ready to take action. I examined the area and noticed it was a rat that was looking for its next meal. I let my guard down slightly and continued my search.
            I was always this careful when it came to disclose a suspect. I never surprised the enemy; I never wanted to be reckless. Of course, I liked the thrill of danger and suspense but I never wanted to endanger my life. Yet I must say, I am a bit more careful about what I do in my dangerous situations every since I met my other half. In a way she kind of made me into a wimp, but nevertheless I always wanted to think that I could go home to her warm embrace.
      
             I continue my now frustrating search for this coward. By now I should have found that scum, and ended his or her worthless life. I have had many cases where I killed a criminal, most of my cases I must admit, usually an act of self-defence. There something about an armed detective that always seems to tick a criminal off. I continued to walk through the building continuously stepping on the ashy and crackling floor beneath me. Once again I heard the same rustling sound but it was now coming from an extremely dark, blackened and tarnished room. A horrible foul odour that smelled of decaying animals and maggots assaulted my nostrils and burned my sense of smell completely. I gagged unwillingly and cover my nose and mouth with a handkerchief I had in my coat pocket.
             I proceeded into the room even more cautiously then before I entered this hellish play ground. With my gun still held out steady, I observed the room cautiously. Ropes hung loosely from the piping on the ceiling. Holes stained the floor, scattered across the ragged tiled floor. Endless numbers of cockroaches, maggots and flies disperse and flee in fear. As I got deeper and deeper into the room the room becomes more and more murky and dim. It seemed as though the suspect covered the windows completely with something. I reached for the flashlight and turned it on causing the beaming light to hit a rotting, disfigured hung body that stood in front of me. I jolted and stepped back in surprise. I calmed my heart down and moved my light around to see that more decomposing bodies surrounded me. I exhaled slowly, holstering my gun then began to search for survivors.  

             “They are all dead.” A voice from afar informed me. I swiftly turned around from the dead and decaying body that I was observing then placed my light in the direction of the voice revealing a young lady that stood behind one of the bodies.
              “Are you a survivor ma’am? Are you hurt? Don’t worry I’m here to bring you to safety.” The woman gave me a chaotic smile then looked at the body that she stood next to and grazed the body gently with her hand.
               “Aren’t they beautiful? They’re so quiet, so peaceful, sleeping forever, never to see the sun again.” She then looked back at me with the same chaotic smile. Knowing that she was the one behind all of these tortured and putrefied bodies I reached my gun and pulled it of its gun case and pointed it at her. She snickered at my actions.
              “Put your hands up!” I commanded viciously
               “I wouldn’t do that Mr. Elliott Christopher Alastair.” She said with a sort of dreamy quality
                I grew angry and confused. How did this woman know my name?! She continued to smile at me, pointing at the face of the body she stood next to. I examined the body hesitantly, slowly moving my flash light to see what she wanted to show me. The body was standing on a chair with a slack rope around its neck; it must have been a survivor. Upon further examination, I realized it was a female, unconscious, and unmoving. I studied the face. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t tell. Her mouth was duck taped and her eyes were blindfolded.

                “Do you not recognize her Elliott? Can you not see the innocent face of your lover?” Shock and anger grew inside me. It boiled and bubbled. How is this possible?! How could she have laid hands on Alana?
                
                “Let her go!” With my gun still levelled, she continued to smile and then pointed at her ankle. Hesitantly, I look at her ankle. A rope connected to one of the chair legs tied it securely.
                “If you shoot me I will try to escape, thus causing your lover to end her life in terrible pain. Now wouldn’t that be awful?” After I heard that, I relented. I place my gun to the ground in surrender.
                “That’s right, slide it over to me.”
 I did what was commanded of me. She picked up the gun and held on to it.” Now I want you to follow everything that I tell you.”
                “If I do will you let her go?!” I asked angrily. She giggled contentedly.
                “Well I won’t let her go, you will. But there is no time to chat. Look over to your right, I want you to take that noose and place it over you neck, then stand next to your lover on the chair beside her.”

                  I didn’t ask questions, I just did was she asked of me. I just wanted to save Alana; uncaring as to what happened to me. I walked over to the noose, picked it up, and placed if over my neck. I then walked over to the chair and stood on it then connected the noose to he pipes above me. The chair was very short and I could barely stand of it. Little by little the noose tightened around my neck, one slip and it was all over. The woman untied the rope from her ankle, and then began to drag a chair over to Alana.

             “What are you going to do to her!?”
            “Oh, so angry. I don’t like angry people.” She then proceeded with her business. She ripped the tape off Alana's mouth and untied the blindfolded.” Wake up. Someone’s here to visit you.” She said in a motherly fashion. Alana's eyes began to open little by little, she was dazed.
             “Elliot?” She said nervously.
             “Alana!”
             “Elliot what’s going on? Why is it so dark in here?”
             “Awe, don’t worry yourself. Elliot will save you, won’t he?” The woman mocked.
            “What? Who are you? Save me from what? Elliot?!”
            “Calm down Alana, don’t panic, okay?”

           The woman examined the gun thoroughly before looking at me.
              “I think this belongs to you.” She handed me the gun peacefully. Then stood in between me and Alana, and tied a rope from both of our chair to her ankles.
“Now, what are you going to do Elliott? Who will you save? If you shoot me either or both of you will die, but of course feel free to end your misery or you wife’s.”
              “Elliot, don’t use the gun, please, don’t become a murderer, please Elliot put the gun down.”

              A murderer. Would I really be a murderer if I killed a murderer? I didn’t know what to think, I was overwhelmed by anger that I could barely hear what she said. Sadly enough Alana didn’t know I had killed other murders, I never had the heart to tell her. I was always too afraid of what she might say. The word murderer pulsed threw my brain and travelled in my blood. I clutched the gun tighter in my palm feeling its hard cold metal fusing in my flesh. I couldn’t let go, I couldn’t put the gun down.

        “Choose Elliot now! Choose! Do it! NOW!” The woman yelled at me hectically. It was no doubts in my mind that she was insane. Alana began to sob. It was clear to me now that she has been in this room for a while. She looked exhausted and frightened.

                  “Don’t do it Elliot please.” She whispered to me with tears in her eyes.
                  “Why should I put the gun down!? This twisted scumbag is trying to take your life!”
                Applause from the woman shattered my words of rage. This sick lady enjoyed every moment of this.
                “You see Hun; you take the matter of life and death into your own hands. Isn’t it a little too dangerous for your precious life?
                “I protect the innocent! Rubbish like you need to be taken care of!”

                 The woman laughed piercingly creating a shell of fear and anxiety in the atmosphere. She violently swiped the flashlight from my hands and turned it off. It became dark and murky again. Nothing could be seen. For the first time in years I became frightened and lost.

                 “Protect the innocent now Elliot!”

                 My memory soon begins to fade off into oblivion. Leaving me with only the distinct sound of giggles and smiles on a content face. The caress of textured soft hair beneath my fingers and palm. Murmur of conversation of spewing thoughts and elaborate sensations. I lost my sight, my sense of smell and my endurance. It feels like it has been hours that I and Alana have been standing here. I can’t let go of my gun. It’s my only hope to free Alana, but her consistent sobs and cries made it hard to concentrate. For the past hours of me and her enduring every moment of this torture made me realize something. Before, I played the role of god. I took and ended lives. I picked who will be put in their place. But, who am I to come between life and death? Who am I to decide the beginning the middle and the end? Am I really a man that preformed righteousness? Or am I a scumbag too?

               “I’m too exhausted…I can’t take this anymore.” I clutch the gun and once more place it in front of me.

               “Elliot no! Don’t do it!” Alana screams.
               “Ha, so you really didn‘t learn anything huh?” The woman snickers at me pathetically. I reach for my trigger, and press on it gently.

               “Elliot no stop! Please don’t do it!” I increase the pressure on the trigger ever so slowly.
              “Come on Elliot! Shoot! Shoot me Elliot! End my worthless life!” She was begging me shoot her. She wants me to shoot her. I tense my muscles in anger and about to shoot when I hear multiple foot steps nearing this hellish void. Beams of lights flash through the door then silhouettes of officers follow soon after. I smile in relief.

               “Put your hands up!” For the first time in years, I was wrong about needing back up, and I’m glad that I was.

 

Author's Note

I would like feed back on what you thought about the progress of the main character in the story and how he changed.