A short story by yours truly
 

I am writing a short story. I started writing it about a year or so ago and been busy with so much other stuff that it was put on the back burner for now, but I will continue it again soon. It's called Murderous Minds

!!!WARNING!!!

It's got murder and it does get into details, and it does involve women and children as well. Chapter 1 is the only chapter that does involve an entire family being whipped out, so please, don't critique the work based on that, but on the writing itself.

Chapter 1:
A cool crisp night air blew through the short brown hair of the killer. The tips of his hair made him look as if he was spat out of mouth of hell. It was the cool Portland summer night breezes that almost chilled him to the bone as he sat outside of a mansion looking house, almost like the one he had seen in the classic movie Gone With The Wind on television the night before. He watched as the last dimly lit yellowish light of the study now went black. He knew the family was going to bed, and that the child was already asleep. The child, Chris, was about 7 or 8 years of age and just like his daddy, short and on the rather heavy side. The father of the family, Allen, was a man in his mid to late 30's with salt and pepper hair and was a man of large size. The mans wife, Renee, was about a year or two younger, but was an exceptional beauty, which made the killer wonder why she was ended up with him.

"Surely there are better men out there in the world" He thought to himself.

He was parked in a black 2005 Chevrolet Cobalt just outside the home. He was devouring doughnuts and drinking Coke Zero like a chain smoker on cigarettes. He opened the small case next to him that containded a Colt 9mm automatic pistol and a silencer, good for about eight to ten shots before the silencer would lose its seffect, but that would be more then enough to extinguish the lives of his targets. After finishing off the last bit of his Coke, he gets out of the car, careful not to close the door hard enough to draw attention to himself. He can hear the sound of a garbage truck coming and figures it's about 20 minutes to a half hour away. He walks across the road at a brisk pace, but does not run. The sound of running is more likely to draw some unwanted attention by nosey neighbors, or police officers patroling the neighborhood. He goes around the the back of the house and up to the back door. He removes a lock pick set and carefully, but quickly picks the lock on the door and eases his way inside, carefully closing the door behind him.

He moves swiftly through the house and up the Victoria style stair case and to the second floor, where he stops at the boys room first. He creeps open the door to the kids room ever so slightly and slides in. He approaches the bed where the child is sleeping. One bullet to the kids temple is all it took to make sure the boy sleeps for eternity. He slides out of the room just as steathly as he entered it and turns towards the master bed room where the parents of the child are fast asleep. He enters the room more cautious then the childs room because he knows that the couple could not be too deep in sleep yet, for they just went to bed not more then a half hour ago. He holds out his pistol and shots the wife first. A third eye is given to her by the killer. He turns to the sleeping husband and stands next to him. The killer gently runs his fingers in the mans hair which causes one the the husbands eyes to open slowly. The mysterious man standing next to him causes the mans eyes to widen in a look of shock, or bewilderment, or both. He begins to open his mouth but the killer puts one bullet in the mans throat, which silenced the man, but he is still alive, barely. The killer just stares at his male victim, a cold, heartless, emotionless stare as the dying man struggles for for air, and then he finally passes, looking into those cold green eyes of the killer staring back at him. One final bullet, point blank in the heart, to make sure the man is dead.

He takes a kitchen towel and exits the house as quickly and quietly as he had entered. He looks down at his gun and takes off the silencer and removes the magazine. He then wipes off any excess blood that is on him and tosses it in the trash can outside. He gets into his car and coasts the car around the corner and starts it up. His checks his heart rate and notices it never changed during the entire cold blooded murder. He drives down to a local 7-11 and pulls into the parking lot. He get into the truck and gets a change of clothes out of the trunk and changes in the parking lot and goes in. There is just a very little trace amount of blood on him and is undetectable to the untrained, naked eye. He is now in tan cargo pants with white Puma shoes and a black "wife beater" as the are called, and an olive green button up shirt over it. He takes out the small silver chain from the suitcase and puts it on and, with a non blood part of the other shirt, wipes his hands and face again, making sure to get all of the blood he can. He goes in and stocks up on road food. Snickers candy bars and pepperoni rolls and Coca~Cola and Lays Stax. He goes to the register and the clerk rings him out, completely unaware that his latest customer just murdered three innocent people.

He gets back into his black Chevrolet Cobalt, which by now is cool, almost cold to the touch, and starts heading south. He is heading towards New York City. He can't quite explain what it is that is drawing him to New York, but he knows he is heading there.

Chapter 2:
As he crossed over the New York borders, he turned on the radio in his car. First station that came through was a new age station and with a gruff sound, he quickly turned the station. The next station was a classical station playing Procol Harlem's Whiter Shade of Pale, something he could definately enjoy.

"Whatever happend to great songs like this" he thought to himself. "Now adays its all these boy bands singing like they have no testicles... it's a tragedy." He started to laugh to himself as he kept motoring down the highway. Off in the distance, he could see dark clouds and the smell of rain was in the air.

It's just shortly after 8:00am when he pulls into "The Big Apple" New York City. He decides to go to a little family style resturante for some breakfast. He desires real food. He sits down at the booth and grabs for a menu off the back of the table and starts to read over it. The waitress comes over with a glass of water, introduces herself as Rebecca, and asks if he's ready to order. Not taking his eyes off the menu, he begins to order.

"Eggs over easy... bacon... sausage patties, not links... and toast..." He orders quickly, finally taking his eyes off the menu and looks at the waitress.

She's a young girl, about 21 or 22 years of age. Fiery red hair with a couple of freckles on her cheeks, with those small black framed glasses resting on her small, but very cute nose. Her eyes are a beautiful emerald green, the same as his. He cant help but look at her eyes. She's wearing a black shirt with crimson red letting that says "Mom's Cafe" on it and a black mini-skirt and a pair of black Adidas shoes. He notices how nicely her butt looks in that skirt as she walks away and he quicks a quick smile. After about 10 minutes or so, she comes back with his order and places it in front of me, gives him a small little smile, and heads off to take care of a couple that came in. He starts to eat ravenously. Bacon, eggs, toast, all getting crammed together in his mouth, along with some water to make it easier to slide down his throat. The waitress comes back over to check on him as he is continuing to cram food in his mouth.

"Your not hungry are ya?!" she asks jokingly and he just gives a nod as to say "yea, maybe just a little."

Such a beautiful girl... so slim and legs that would make a runway model jealous. He cant help but think of what it would be like to wake up next to her someday. When she comes back to check on him, he begs her to sit with him for a moment. She does so for a minute or so and they engage in just idle chit chat when the juke box puts on "Mr Lonely" by Bobby Vinton. The Killer just gets this smug smile and chuckles a little bit and she asks whats funny.

"This song... it's kinda like me. No one has ever been there for me and I've just been forgotten about" he begins to tell her and notices her green eyes are locked on him. "So how old are you Rebecca?"

"I just turned 23 two weeks ago" she replies softly to him

"Only a couple years younger then me" and they both laughed

"What about you?" She asks

He suddenly gets a very serious look on his face and replies to her.

"Age is just a number. After we turn 21, does age really matter anymore? See, when you turn 18, you are considered, by law, an adult, but it's when you turn 21 that you can really do everything an adult can do, such as drink and go to certain clubs and everything, so once you hit that point, it doesn't matter anymore whether your 23 or 32 or 50"

He looks away from her and finishes the last bite of his toast and thanks Rebecca for her time and hands her $5 tip. He asks if they can continue this discussion, perhaps when she gets off work, and she accepts. They plan on talking more over coffee at a local StarBucks. Now he just has to figure out how to kill a few hours in New York City while waiting for 3:00pm, when she gets off work.

Chapter 3:
Mr. Klages, the neighbor of the Portland family, notices no activity in a household that always had some from of action going on. Thinking the family is sick or something, he puts on his orange Nike Shox shoes and his orange Syracuse Orangemen shirt and khaki shorts and goes over to the family's home. After knocking a couple times, he touches the door knob and realizes the door is unlocked and quietly pushes it open. He calls for Allen and Renee, but no answer. He slowly checks each of the downstairs rooms, starting in the kitchen. Nothing out of the ordinary, so he proceeds to the dining room off to the right of the kitchen and keeps going on into the main hall and up the white carpeted stairs. He noticed tiny red dots on the carpet and his stomach began to sink. He knew something wasn't quite right, but was hoping maybe someone had cut themselves earlier or had a nose bleed or something. He opens the door to Allen and Renee's room first. The smell of the dead bodies in the warm room caused him to make a gaging noise and cover his mouth and nose. Blood, it was all over the bed and floor. He saw Renee's body, with a single shot to her pretty head, lying next to her huband, whose throat was slit wide open and also a single gun shot to him. He turns and runs down the hall towards the stairwell and opens the kid's door. No sign of life from the child either. He quickly races out of the house and over to his home and calls the local police, and after about 15 minutes or so, they show up.

Det. Douglas Meyers was a veteran of the police force. For 24 long years, he had served this fine community by keeping its citizens safe. He got the nickname "Michael" from the many people he has captured over the years. They started calling him Michael because it seems like no matter what they did to him, he just never stopped coming after them until he caught them, just like the horror movie character Michael Meyers, except the on screen Michael was pure evil. Det. Meyers loved his job more then anything because it was personally satifying whenever he would help his community, whether its investigating a homicide or a hijacking or whatever it may be. He was an older man, mid 40's by this point. "Salt and Pepper" hair with brown eyes and a chiseled face, almost as if it was carved from stone. For a man his age, he was still very physically fit, able to tackle to youths that thought he was past his prime. Known for his brown long coat that he always wore and his black Fedora hat, people thought he had walked straight off of an old Humphrey Bogart flick. His demeanor and eagerness to help his community made him very popular with the citizens of Portland. He had a less experienced, but equally as passionate partner, Det. Eric Poe.

Eric Poe had served his community for six years, 4 of which where with Meyers as his partner. They made a great team and one of the most feared duos to ever track a criminal. On the whiteboard at the precinct, all of their cases was wrote with red marker, which is to say they were all solved. He was a blonde headed "kid" of about 30 years of age. His bright blue eyes were always covered up by a pair of Oakly sunglasses with blue tinted lenses. He always had on diffrent "obnoxious and nausiating" Hawaiian print shirts exposing white undershirts, or "wifebeater" as some called it. He always wore khaki pants to work to. Meyers always said he would be better playing a part in the Miami Vice movie or something and always called him Sonny, on of the main characters in the tv show Miami Vice. He's a fun loving guy always planning the next practical joke to pull on Meyers. The two of them were definately the best of friends. Not only was he a veteran cop, he also spent a couple years in the United States Marine Corp as a sniper. He was hailed as one of the greatest Marine snipers to ever go through the Marine Corp.

As they pull up to the crime scene, they can see Mr. Klages, the neighbor, standing outside. Sitting on the sidewalk, they can tell he's very shaken up over discovering the bodies of his slain neighbors. He tells the two detectives that the child and his parents are upstairs in their respective bedrooms. Meyers and Poe enter the gigantic front door and proceed up the elegant stairway to the second floor. The first room they begin investigating in is the child's room. The body of young Chris is still lying in bed, motionless. Both of the detectives get a little choked up and have to exit the room for a moment. Meyers finally reenters the room and goes over to the child and looks for any signs of evidence. Nothing to be found, he turns the body over to the coroner and his assistant, and asks to take good care of the childs body.

"According to the liver temperature and amount of riger that set in, I'd say death occurred about 2:30 this morning. I just came from the parents room and their deaths were about the same time, within minutes of eachother. Prepare yourself Meyers, it's not a pretty sight in there at all." The coroner told Poe as he and his assistant place the young child's body in a body bag and onto a gurney.

"Hey Poe, go start in the master bedroom. I'll finish up in here and meet you in there" Meyers shouted into the hallway.

"Alright old man, I'm on it" Poe fired right back.

Poe enters the main bedroom where the husband and wife are still lying side by side and the coroner scoots beside him and starts to remove the to bodies from the crime scene. He notices a partial shoe print made from some of the spilt blood. He starts looking around for any signs of a murder weapon.

"Start looking for something small and very very, like a butcher's knife or something similar. I'll also get the bullets out of them and have them sent over to ballistics" the coroner said as he walked past the detective, pushing a gurney with a black body bag placed neatly on it.

"The blood... it's just so... red..."

Poe's words staggered out of his mouth, broken up. He continued trying to locate any evidence of the person response for the deaths of three innocent lives. Meyers joined him soon after the coroner left with the bodies. They look everywhere for signs of the knife that was used to slit Allen's throat wide open, as well as other evidence, but nothing turned up. They finally exit the bedroom and head back down the stairs and out to their car. They take the picture of the shoe print, which isn't even a whole print, just the upper half of the shoe, and head back to the station. For the first time in their careers, they were truely stumped and had nothing to go on really. This just frustrated them beyond belief. They kept returning to the house looking for more clues. They couldn't imagine how someone could do that to innocent people, but what really blew their minds was how perfect this crime was. No witnesses, no weapons anywhere, no hairs or fibers left behind. Only thng was a half a shoe print, which looks as if it could belong to many many diffrent shoe soles. It wasn't even good enough to get an accurate shoe size.

!!!The End of what I got!!!

This is all I have got so far. I had notes and such for chapter 4 but I lost all my works when I was moving stuff around in my house. Please, let me know what you people think of the story so far. Any and all criticisms will be welcomed.

!!!To the Mods!!!
I'm not sure if I was allowed to post like this. I know double posting is a no-no, but not sure if this qualified as double posting because it's not posting the same thing as the previous post.

No one has any reviews on it yet? I'm sad and disappointed *runs to a corner and pouts*

Here is my review I couldn't get past the first sentence. :sarcasm:

I will read it a different time. I didn't feel like it today.:kiss: