I see a glimmer of hope. Let's just stay with the team.. I think that's safe for now!


Happy Halloween!

Just a quick note... I'm going to do my best to get this done tonight... if not, oh well. I guess I won't be making the deadline. But, I'll do my best. I'm going trick-or-treating tonight (yes, college students DO go trick-or-treating. hehe) I'm going as Olive, from the movie Little Miss Sunshine, so that'll take quite a bit of my time tonight. I do have the rest mapped out in my head, though... it's just typing it out that'll pose the challenge...

Anyways, "enjoy..." *Lizzy runs and hides*


She wouldn’t be going anywhere soon. He had his chance to leave and release the idiot. He’d served his first purpose; now, it was time for him to finish his part in the plan.

Crossing the small bridge, and stepping down below it, he found the man… anyone who’d seen him would have thought him a pathetic drunk. Pulling out the smelling salts, he waved them under the man’s nostrils. The man revived.

Pocketing the salts, he disappeared before he could be seen.
*****

The burlap was rough against her skin. Her hand, crushed beneath the weight of her body, throbbed and stung. The broken skin still bled, and her knuckles still ached from the intense impact at the window. Thankfully, the sweater was still tightly wrapped around the injury.

The room was darker than your typical room, but nothing she couldn’t adjust to. It was a relief, actually, to be in a dimly lit room, where the light didn’t burn with its intensity. She resisted the urge to curl into the scratchy burlap sacks on the floor, and instead, shakily stood to her feet. Her body protested the action.

She was in a basement of some sort, with old, gray, peeling walls and a cold, cement floor covered in filled burlap sacks... with what, she did not know. There were no windows, and as far as she could tell, no doors. The very prospect sent shivers violently running up and down her spine.

No, she wasn’t thinking logically. There had to be a way out. It didn’t make sense to have a room with no exit…

Unless the trapdoor in the ceiling was the only way in and out. Somehow, the door had closed after her fall, mechanically, like a twisted funhouse. Besides, there was no way to reach up there anyways.

She surveyed the room again, looking for anything interesting… the room was practically bare, except for the burlaps sacks covering the floor. From the way they sunk beneath her feet, she figured they must be filled with straw.

Another sweep of the room, and she saw it. A fireplace. It made no sense to have a fireplace in a basement, with no windows, chair, or anything…

She followed the chimney upwards… the chimney stopped short about four inches away from the ceiling.

The fireplace wasn’t meant to be used.

Crossing the room, she crouched down beside the log, on a metal holder of some sort.

A random movie scene came to mind, one she hadn’t watched in many years… on a hunch, with her good hand, she shoved the log holder to the side. There was a wooden panel beneath it.

Wooden? That confirmed it, the fireplace definitely was not for traditional use; a wooden floor panel would have caught on fire quickly, if a log was lit over it.

There was no handle or spot to lift the panel… reaching down, she pulled off one of her shoes. Jamming the base of the skinny heel into the crevice between the wood and the cement, she pried upwards.

The panel lifted just enough for her to grab the raised edge and open it.

A staircase came into view beneath her. Stepping down, she descended into what would soon become her hell.
*****

This is really starting to freak me out!!!

Um, Lizzy . . .

Perhaps you have forgotten one very important element of writing: C-L-O-S-U-R-E!

Please? Your readers need some . . . soon. Keep up the great work.

Well, that last line couldn't have been any more foreboding. Hope you have fun trick-or-treating, Lizzy, but please don't forget about Sue!

Just caught up and all I can say is AAAAKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Waiting (behind the couch ofcourse) for the post

Faith

“Jack, buddy what’s happening?”

The voice almost brought tears to his eyes. Standing at his desk, he fought the urge to smile at the man. “Howie, you got my message, come in.”

Looking decidedly more ragamuffin today, Howie made his way over to Jack, rubbing the back of his head, a number of emotions apparent in his expression. “Message? Jack, man, I’m here on business purely my own. I have an armed robbery case for you. It’s of the utmost importance.”

Familiar irritation was quickly returning. “Did you, or did you not get my message?” Jack asked flatly.

“That’s exactly what I have to talk to you about. If there was a message, there was no possible way for me to receive it. I was attacked last night, and…”

“Attacked?” Tara echoed, as the rest of the team, who’d since arrived, followed her over to where Howie stood.

“Would you let me finish? Yes, I was attacked. Some idiot came up behind me and hit me, real hard. It wasn’t enough to knock me out, just enough to wig me out a bit. The guy stabbed me in the arm with a needle, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up underneath a grody ol’ bridge right outside DC. That jerk stole my phone last night. Left my money, took my cell. Imagine that.”

Jack, pacing, responded, “Sue got a call last night, from who she thought was you, Howie. It was a tip, for the case we’re working. She followed it, and she didn’t come back.”

Howie’s face fell. “It’s my fault. Sue’s gone, and if I hadn’t let that… that man attack me, she’d be here right now.”

Lucy shook her head. “It’s not your fault. You had no idea it was going to happen. We’ve just got to focus on helping her now.”

He nodded. “How can I help?”
*****

“It’s the best he could have done. It’s a bit less garbled. If we pay attention to the intonation, it may help us narrow the locations down even further,” Tara informed the team, before playing the answering machine tape.

Sure enough, the words were still undistinguishable, but a bit more defined. Long tones, short tones, they could be heard.

Pulling out the maps and address lists, the team, plus Howie, went to work, each with their own copy of the tape, hoping that a location would click with Sue’s message.

“Guys, the coordinates…” Tara said a bit shakily. “His GPS.”

“Whose GPS, Tara?” Myles questioned absentmindedly.

“Howie’s. He has a GPS-equipped phone. If its on, I should be able to access the coordinates of its location.” She began typing away at her computer. “And if I can find the location, I can compare the addresses’ coordinates.”

“Tara, you’re brilliant,” Jack praised her.

As Tara stopped typing and sat back in her chair, the team gathered around her desk, waiting for a response. They all watched the screen intently, waiting for the green light.

A green light flashed. They were connected.

As the team cheered, Tara worked intently. Pulling up the list of addresses they were using, she pulled up their coordinates, and compared them on the same map as the one with Howie’s cell phone location.

In a matter of minutes, they had the image on the big plasma screen in the corner.

A silence fell over the room.

They had an exact match.
*****

“Tara, how far are we from the main road?” Jack said into his mic, too focused on the winding street to check the odometer. He drove on, following the directions that’d appeared on the navigation system screen, in the SUV.

“About two miles,” Tara answered him, from the bullpen, with Lucy at her side.

“I see the house… a mansion, really,” Myles informed them from his own vehicle. ”Looks pretty old… maybe a hundred years old, or so.”

They parked a safe distance away, behind some trees. In the afternoon sun, they could see a barrier of caution tape wrapped around the house. Big red letters painted on the door and windows said “condemned.”

“Tara?” Jack quietly questioned. “The house records didn’t say anything about this place being condemned, did they?”

“Nope.”

“She’s got to be here, then,” Jack thought aloud.

Another vehicle pulled up alongside his, then parked. Bobby hopped out. “I’ve got the warrant. What’s our first move?”

“We’ve studied the blueprints already; there’s no point to checking it out. We’ve got to get in there; Sue’s been gone long enough as it is.”

Bobby nodded, looking at Myles and D, they too agreed.

“Let’s go.”
*****

She fought the urge to yank her wrists against the ropes, knowing it’d tear them up, even further. They were bound tight. Her ankles were shackled in securely, as well. She was essentially stuck to the wall.

The staircase was her only way to go; she should have just stayed in the room above. She never would have ended up like this.

She’d been caught, like a moth to a flame. Every inch of his plan had been premeditated, and she’d fallen into it head first. Now, she was tied flat against the wall, bound by raw, biting rope, and cold, iron shackles.

Tears stung her eyes, as she fought to be brave, to be optimistic. But he was sitting right there, staring at her; he had no shame.

He didn’t do this with the other women. She was special. She was the one. That’s what he’d told her. Then he’d laughed. The killing would stop with her. She shouldn’t be scared; good would come of her death.

But as much as she was sure God would take her in His timing, and that when He called, she’d be willing, this didn’t feel right. To die at the hands of a serial killer, like this, trapped—no one should have to pass on like that… terrified.

And now, he sat silently, watching her. She wanted to shut her eyes, to pretend she wasn’t there, to wish it all away. But to close her eyes to him would be to admit defeat, and she would never let that happen. Escape seemed impossible, but she had to continue hoping, praying for it.
*****

“This guy is insane. What’s with this house?” Jack asked, as he tore down the wooden boards in the front doorway.

They stumbled into the house, and stopped in their tracks. “What are all the doors for?” Bobby questioned.

A loud clunk came from a corner of the room.

The men cautiously crossed the living area, and looked down into the darkness through the hole in the floor. It was a trapdoor.

Pulling out a flashlight and a rope, “I’m going down,” Jack said. He tied the rope around his waist, and Bobby took the other end, not even bothering to argue with him.

Carefully grabbing onto the edge of the floor, he dropped down into the room below.
*****

His descending footsteps echoed in the basement, and he relished the sound.

“He’s coming.”

Sue held her breath. God, please…

First, she saw a shadow, then a foot. Then, Jack was there.

“Jack, please be careful,” she pleaded with him.

Jack lifted his arm, holding his gun up at the evil man across the room. He cautiously walked over to her, never taking his eyes off of the man.

He reached her in a few wide strides. For a moment, forgetting the serial killer with them, he stared at her, deep into her eyes.

“Jack.”

“Shh…” He reached up and touched a bound arm, caressing it. “It’s alright. We’ll get you out of here.” He brushed her forehead with his lips. He lowered his touch to her nose, her own lips. “I love you,” he mouthed.

“A whore,” the mystery man murmured. “No different than my mother.”

Jack let his guard down far too soon, for with a kiss, both of them became oblivious to the quickly falling ceiling. There was no escape for either, and death was inevitable.
*****

The prayer ended, and he raised his head, opening his eyes. The bagpipes began to play, and the others turned to face him. Some touched his shoulder, others embraced him, but he returned nothing. Consumed with hatred for the woman who’d dared to call herself his mother, he turned away from the grave.

He had to find the woman to take her place, to be the sacrifice he needed to rid himself of her memory. He had the scenario played out in his mind, from the first woman’s death to the final, right woman’s death, Sue Thomas. He’d seen her in a paper somewhere. Perhaps it was by divine inspiration, or perhaps it was only wishful thinking, but he had a plan, and it was time for the first kill.
*****

Epilogue:

“Jack,” Sue called from the doorway. “This came for the team.” She held a manila envelope in her hand.

Little did they know that this was to be the first of a long line of envelopes, each addressed from a new murder victim.

The tormentor’s plan was in action. However, it would be impossible to determine whether or not his twisted funhouse, murderous scheme would succeed, for until the moment the first woman died, the entire plot was only in his mind, concocted during the funeral of the woman he despised, his mother.

For the victims’ sakes, and that of the team, one could only pray that his plan would be thwarted.
*****


Sorry if this sounds confusing, but I don't know if I communicated the idea all that well. The time crunch made it difficult. Anyways, I know it's not as positive or uplifting as my stories typically are, but.... then again, it IS that creepy time of year.

I hope you enjoyed the ride, however crazy it may have been

BTW, that was the end.

Lizzie, that was a great story. I thought the ending was good, kinda like a cliffhanger, maybe you could come up with a sequel too?

Thanks for sharing your scary story with us. I wuld use a smiley but they have all disappeared from my screen. I wonder if they were scared too. Well done

Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute...did you just....tell me you didn't...um, Lizzie...what did you mean by ???????

kav

So did we read the end of the story and then end with the beginning?

I admit to being a bit confuzzled.

Incredible writing, though, Lizzy. Very impressive.

I think I understand what you've done with it.. Wow. that is fitting with this creepy time of the year. Excellent story..

Alright, to dispell any confusion, which I had a feeling would come... with a twisted idea like this, I normally need more than ten minutes to write it out clearly. hehe... Here's what the ending meant...

Jack, and Sue, in reality, are alive and well. In fact, the case had not even begun yet. The whole time, the evil serial killer (whose name I never did reveal... I guess the anonymity of it made it a bit... creepier?) was at his mother's funeral, mentally concocting the whole plan. He was imagining it...

and in the VERY end, the epilogue (it was set later that day, after the funeral... at least it was implied), the team was about to find out about the killer's first victim (with the first envelope). He had just begun to carry out his plan.

And we do not know how it will all play out, whether they will live, or whether they will die... that's just the mystery of it all!

Although, knowing me, as a writer, do you really think I'd let them be crushed to death under a dropping ceiling..... of course, at least they would have been... ahem, otherwise occupied as it happened ... surely that's good enough.

my sentiments exactly

but thx for explaining, i understand it now

Woah! Creepy stuff Lizzy! That story had me sitting on the edge of my seat! Loved it!!

Once I read the ending over a second time I realized what was happenong...and that makes it even scarier! Ahhh! Definitely disturbing. I really enjoyed reading the story - thanks, Lizzy!

That explanation makes things much, much better!! Thank you for another amazing story!!

My goodness! What a scary ride.
thanks,
Terie

I loved it!!!!

Em

Strange endding... but that's what made it great. Totally fit the halloween thing.

I can't even begin to describe how amazingly you wrote this. I was clueless until the end!!!

Jen

Sorry for playing catch up.

Thanks for the explanation, Lizzy ... so that means the kiss didn't happen !!!!

Very original!

Lizzy, what a brilliant plot for a very scary story!! You had me going there for a minute, but I was pretty sure I knew what was going on!! When you gave us the explanation I find I was on the right page!!!

Thanks for sharing!! Definitely a great Halloween story!!!

Joy

that all I have to say about that. Awesome Lizzy

very interesting. so jack and sue don't die/get hurt?
it was all in this psycho's mind?