Prologe: The hunter and the hunted

The begining of a great story? who knows. A killer/cop story that looks into both perspectives. A prologue to a story that I may continue.

Purpose. It’s what drives us, and it’s what makes us tick. I achieved my purpose tonight, I killed a man. He was not smart enough to run away or fight back, but it was the most satisfying pleasure I have ever had. To have power over someone else, to take away a life gives you the strength to live life. He was scared, his facial expression even after death registered panic. His red life juices oozing out of his gaping wound around his lifeless neck as I wiped my blood stained blade.         

 I grabbed his cowering body from the damp stoned alleyway and stared deep into his eyes and asked him “Why do you live your life in this way?” His eyes widened and he stuttered out the words “Don’t hurt me man! I made bad choices, really bad choices I don’t know what to do!” He began to sob out loud. His dirty hands grabbing hold of the bottom of my black jacket. “You should have thought of that before you got to this point!” I hissed as I turned him around and grabbed his pulsating neck by my torn gloved hand and whipped out my blade. The metallic noise screamed throughout the alley bouncing off every brick of its walls. I held the blade up to his throat, he sobbed some more before I asked “Any last words?” He screamed and tried to wrestle free but it was no use, I will not let him go before he gets what he deserves.

“Don’t do it man, please just don’t do it!” he cried as he squeezed onto my hand with desperation. With a quick swipe of my blade his body went limp and skin began to get colder.

It rained heavy that night, the homeless man was dumped at the side of an old metal bin that he set on fire to keep warm, the putrid smell of burning alcohol, rats, s**t and death lifted up through the street air in a gust of wind. After the clock tower chimed eleven o’clock I carefully took out the handwritten letter from my blood soaked sleeve and tucked it into the dead man’s jacket pocket. I briskly fled the scene with long strides in my walk. There was a police car that stopped at the junction, I turned my head the opposite way so my face was not seen and continued my route back to my humble abode.

                       *  *  *  *  *

 

I squinted at the black figure further down the street as I stopped the squad car at the junction. The rain began to get heavier; it washed away all chances of sight through the windscreen. I Began drive on as my partner, Phil Baxter sipped his coffee and listened to the static conversations being heard over the police radio. “It’s a quiet night tonight, Stewart.” He said as the traffic lights changed their colours to green.

“Don’t be too hopeful that we’ll get home early, Phil. I have a funny feeling we’re about to get busy.” I replied as I turned Left going through the main street full of shop windows and glamour glitz lighting. The radio suddenly screamed out at us both, “Attention all units! We have reports from a neighbour on Fork Street that there’s a homeless man lying dead in an alleyway opposite James’s liquor store. Please respond, over.” Phil and I looked at each other with panic in our eyes.

Phil grabbed the radio receiver and spoke out to head quarters. “HQ, this is car 23. We just passed Fork Street; we’re on route now, over. There was a silent pause as I turned the car around and slammed on the siren and lights. My heart began to race as I hit the gas pedal. I watched as the needle jumped from 20 miles an hour to 80 in that minute, the radio buzzed again.

“Rodger that car 23, the boss man is on his way down there right now. There’s another squad car on the way, over.” Phil quickly got his notepad out from the dashboard and began writing down the time and nature of the call. We turned the corner and parked up by James’s liquor store. A man and woman ran over to us from the alleyway as Phil and I began to exit our car. The rain was still heavy, beating upon the car roof like the sound of a thousand drums being played.

“We’re detectives Stewart brown and Phil Baxter.” Phil introduced us to the two terrified witnesses.  

“Where’s the body you found?” I enquired, the gentleman wore a short brown raincoat and long dark trousers with a boat shaped beige hat. The woman shivering in fright with her hands tucked into her chest wore a dark blue rain coat with the hood up. Her wet, long brown hair covered one side of her face as the rain rolled down her cheek, nose and chattering lips.

“Over by that bin officer!” Found this woman screaming out for help just outside my flat.

“What are your names?” My partner questioned as we began walking towards the smoking bin.

“Its Andrew Smith and this is Amanda.” Andrew replied as Phil began writing their details.

“It’s Amanda Higgins.” Amanda announced with a shrilled voice.

“Okay, Amanda. Roughly what time did you discover the body?”  Phil questioned as we came up to the entrance of the damp and dark alleyway. The stench venting from it smelt like excrement and rotten food. Amanda covered up her nose with both hands as she peaked into the alleyway from the corner of the entrance wall, where we were standing.

“It was about quarter past eleven, I was coming home from work and I heard a man scream from this alleyway. I walked up to the bin that was on fire and saw a homeless man slumped next to it. At first I thought he was asleep but I then noticed he wasn’t breathing and saw his neck was . . . well, was torn open.” She sobbed as she held tightly onto Andrew’s arm.

I looked on at Phil as he took down notes and began to question Andrew. Andrew’s eyes were lit up by the overhead street light; you can see the fear in his eyes as he held onto Amanda’s hand tightly.

“So Mr. Smith, what were you doing before you discovered Amanda out on the street after quarter past eleven?” Phil stared on as Andrew took a deep breath and began to speak.

“I was at home watching T.V. I opened my flat window to have a smoke, that’s when I saw Amanda running out of the alleyway and screaming. So I rushed downstairs and once I found out what had happened I called the police.” He explained while lighting up a cigarette, his hands shaking trying to ignite the rolled up tobacco.

“Where is your flat Mr Smith? It must be just above James’s liquor store, correct? Is James still in his shop now or does he also live in one of the flats next to yours?” My partner gave me a look I know which was all too familiar. I passed him on a wink as I turned around and reached out for my handcuffs.

“It’s on the, uh, top floor. Number sixteen. Yes, James lives on the floor bellow me.” He pointed to the top window of the flats above James’s liquor store. I looked down where Andrew’s hand was, stroking the bare leg of Amanda as he passed his cigarette onto her.

“You know, Mr Smith. It’s a criminal offense to give out false information to the police. Let me see your Identification please.” I demanded as I held out my right hand, my left still behind my back on the clip of my handcuffs. 

He quickly produced his passport it read 16 Fork Street. He was telling the truth about his address, anyways. “Can I see your ID miss?” I asked Amanda as she backed away from my hand and began to run. Luckily, she didn’t get very far only half a block. She tripped over a drain, thank god for women and their high heels. I quickly put her in cuffs and walked her to the car. Her underwear was now clearly visible from her scuffed up jacket. Red laced with stockings and cheap make up. The rain made it difficult to see her true colours. She was a street walking cheetah.

“You both need to come down to the station for questioning” I yelled as I pointed at Andrew Smith, trying to hide his face. They were both obviously scared of getting caught more than the discovery of a body. The police officers who were called upon arrived on the scene just as I picked up Amanda from the wet cobbled street.

“What’s the situation detective?” The taller one asked. I pushed Amanda forward and Phil walked Andrew smith into the police car.

“These two suspects need to go down to the station. They’ve been up to no good, the girl is a prostitute. These two discovered the body. Have them both detained and questioned, we’ll come back in to further question them once we’ve gathered some evidence.” I told the officer as he nodded and drove off after putting the suspects in the back of the car.

“This has turned out to be quite a night already Stewart. Already I can hear the cries of my name from a strong glass of whisky from the bar across town.” Phil chuckled as we walked back down to the alleyway torches in hand.

The smell of smoke filled the air of the alleyway from the old and dirty metal bin where the homeless man was sitting. He wore a patchy brown jacket, his bare feet and hands were covered in dirt and flies were already moving in to nest into his slowly decaying body. His black beard was dampened by the heavy rain. His head was sheltered only by a cardboard box and a metal sheet stretched across from the bin. Rats scurried around from every hole and corner of the alleyway, their squeaky voices and lit up glowing, yellow eyes in the dark made the alleyway’s atmosphere all the more sinister. Our torches bobbed and weaved in and out of the bins, boxes and rubbish left behind by the homeless, vermin, and lazy working class snobs.

“Look over here!” Phil cried out as he held his torch light up against the wall opposite the dead homeless man. There was a streak of blood splatter across moving from left to right.

“The murderer must have moved the victim after killing him with whatever it was. There doesn’t seem to be any sign of a struggle though, perhaps he was asleep.” I suggested as I turned around and examined the victim. His skin was ice cold as I inspected his fingers and body for missing jewellery or markings. I Took a look at the back of his neck it was darker than the rest of his skin. I shined my torch closer towards his skin and discovered there was a bruise.

“Look at this Phil” I pointed as he quickly took out his camera phone and took a photograph.

“Seems there was a struggle after all, but who would murder a homeless man?” Phil questioned as I began rummaging through the victims pockets.

“Maybe because the killer thought no one would care. There have been cases I’ve worked in the past where the murders and psychos thought they could get away with it just because there was never a name to the face. The homeless are hard to identify, but after soul searching missing persons and the likes, the names and other details and pieces of the puzzle eventually come together.” I explained while pulling out the skin of a banana, a yoyo and several other items of rubbish from one of the victim’s jacket pockets. I then checked the other side of his jacket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper.  

“Hey Phil look at this.” I requested as he shined his light on the bright white paper, which looked fairly new. Not stained from cigarette fumes or splattered with blood or dirt. This was put there for a reason. I carefully opened it up and we both began to read the letter.

 

Dear Police,

I am a ghost, a figment of many people’s imagination. I am a lone wolf looking for comfort, through death and blood I find that comfort. The people of this city do not understand, nor will they ever understand that it isn’t all about the money. The city has a system and that system and routine is all about their comfort.

You see, without you there is no comfort. Yet you are hated, disrespected and disregarded by many of the people in the city. Why? Simply because its things like tonight that create panic, its people like me who ultimately manifest that initial fear and chaos in the hearts and minds of these insects.

To catch me you must first find me. To find me you must follow the red brick road to the end of Deaths Avenue.  Without me you wouldn’t have a purpose, without you this wouldn’t be any fun at all and I also would not have a purpose.

Without purpose there is no life, with no life there is no purpose. That is the nature of my game. I go after the ones with no purpose, the people without names and faces. In order to save them you must first find their names before I take their faces.

Yours sincerely,

Your murderer

 

Phil and I looked into each other’s eyes with shock. This guy sounds insane and incredibly disturbed.

“The killer wants to be found by the sounds of it. He’s giving us clues to his next location or his next victim. What do you think he means by follow the red brick road to the end of Deaths Avenue?” I asked Phil as he rubbed the bottom of his chin in thought.

 “I don’t know any places near here named Deaths Avenue but I’m sure we’ll figure it out when we get back to HQ and question the two suspects. We’ll just keep looking for clues then head over and speak to the boss man.” He suggested as we walked further down the alleyway.

There were markings on the walls just next to the other side of the bin. I flashed my torch on them; they went right along the alleyway from the bottom.  There was a line stopping at the middle of the alley way wall. Then a gap and a shorter marking line ending next to the bin. They look like they were made by a sharp object, a blade of some kind maybe. I got Phil to take another photograph of the alleyway, there were also two different footprints leading up to the bin.

The first set of footprints was obviously the homeless victim’s because he was barefoot. The second set were of a larger feet. Trainers, possibly boots I couldn’t be sure. Phil took a picture and we called Headquarters to get a team down as soon as possible.

 Another set of footprints were also present. High heels and another set of male footprints. A ring and a bra were recovered from the area where the two sets of foot prints were found. Something told me that we already met the two suspects who made the footprints and owned the bra and ring. We quickly walked back into our car and headed towards the station through the wet, cold and black night sky. 

Author's Note

If any issues with grammar or spelling mistakes I would like for you to tell me. If you like it i will continue writing the story. All comments are once again appreciated. :)

Reviews

[Ruth]

Got me hooked! lol
You have built this up really well..I am looking forward to where this heads love...powerful imagery that the reader can bite into!
xx

[Kenneth The Poet]

Interesting introduction. Keep it up.