When the Night Calls

by Rashad Freeman

  As her vision faded her hand somehow found the pocket knife and flipped it open. She swung it towards his head, but he sat up and caught her wrists as if she was a child.

  He beat her hand on the floor until she loosened her grip and the knife fell out. Her last bit of hope fell with the knife and she cried out in fear.

  “Silly bitch!” the man spat.

  He grabbed the knife and placed the blade to her throat. He pressed it hard, breaking the skin and leaving a small slit. With the knife still pressed against her, he leaned into her ear.

  “Now if you play nice, we’re gonna have some fun,” he whispered as he violently tore at her skirt.

  Agnes tried to scamper to her feet, but the man reared up and punched her across the face with his heavy fist.

  “I told you to play nice. He wasn’t lying, you are a wild one,” the man giggled.

  Agnes whimpered as he ripped her panties off and thrust himself into her. She squirmed and kicked her legs, but he just pressed her down harder.

  “Stop moving I told you!” the man stammered as he cut deeper with the blade.

  Agnes could feel her eye swelling and a trickle of blood running from her nose. Gritting her teeth together, she tried to ignore the pain. She knew he would kill her if she fought back, but she knew he would kill her anyway.

  The man writhed on top of her as sweat dripped from his chin. He bent over and licked her face, grunting in her ear. “Yeah, baby, that’s how I like it. Make me work!” he gasped in between his heavy breaths.

  Agnes felt helpless. Tears streamed down her face and she looked away as the will to fight started to fade.

  She stared up into the man’s pudgy face and cringed. He was vile and disgusting, covered in thick, sticky sweat. His heavy body pinned her to the floor. He moved on top of her like an animal, like he was driven out of some primal instinct.

  Agnes bleated in pain as the man violently drove himself into her over and over. He leaned in and wrapped his arm around the back of her head, pulling her into him. With every thrust he moaned and grunted, voicing his enjoyment.

  Suddenly there was a noise near the door and the man stopped moving. Agnes looked up as a tall, dark-haired man stepped out of the shadows. The man on top of her was frozen, like he didn’t know how to react.

  Agnes took advantage and jolted her body upwards and the man fell to the side. He hit the floor beside her and Agnes quickly jumped to her feet and ran for the door. She could smell the cool night air, the scent of freedom, lingering just out of reach.

  As she passed the man at the door he grabbed her by the arm. His grip was firm and harsh, his fingers closed around her like a sleeve. He shoved her backwards, slinging her to the ground like a ragdoll.

  The shorter man jumped up and charged toward her. Fuming, he kicked her in the ribs. “I warned you!” he screamed. He dived on top of Agnes and pinned her wrists to the ground with one hand. With the other he back handed her then glared up to the man near the door. “Come on, it’s your turn,” he said eagerly.

  The man near the door didn’t move.

  “Come on,” he beckoned again then grabbed Agnes by the neck with both hands.

  His fingers tightened around her throat like a vice. She kicked, sucking in her last bit of air. The room slowly became dark; Agnes’s vision went in and out of focus. Then she stopped struggling and her body went limp.

  Agnes felt like she was floating on an endless cloud. Everything faded away, the pain the fear. Nothing could harm her anymore, Agnes was safe. She was in a warm, happy place, drifting through her life like a movie reel.

  She hovered over her quaint New Orleans flat on a wisp of air. Then found herself back in Seattle traipsing through the forest as a young girl. It was surreal, a montage of a life lived, but stripped away prematurely and then suddenly it was like someone threw cold water on her face.

  She awoke to a searing pain in her side. Her head throbbed and she struggled to draw breath. With a quivering hand she wiped at her face then looked around.

  She was still lying on the floor in her foyer. The cold wood was stuck to her bare skin with dried blood. She was naked, freezing in the dark.

  Agnes ran her hand across her face, feeling the lump above her eye. Her nose felt broken and her bottom lip was split in two.

  Grimacing, she pushed herself up on all fours then collapsed back to the floor. Her face landed in a puddle of blood with a smack. She moaned in pain, her bruised and beaten body crying in protest.

  She tried again to get to her feet and managed to stand on wobbly legs. Her arms trembled as she slowly righted herself and leaned against the wall. The room started to spin, winding in and out of focus. Her head throbbed as she struggled to keep herself standing.

  Hobbling forward, she reached for the phone. It fell to the floor and she fumbled with it, punching at numbers before she blacked out again.

  Agnes was lost. She was in the middle of a room filled with a harsh white light. There was a man sitting on a bench in the middle of the room. He seemed elderly although Agnes couldn’t see his face and he wore a gray suit with white stripes.

  “Hello,” Agnes called to him.

  The man didn’t move and Agnes yelled again. This time he slowly turned around and looked in her direction.

  Agnes gasped and staggered backwards. The man had long, graying hair and a scruffy beard. But in place of his eyes were black holes, like someone had dug them out with a spoon.

  He stood and started to walk towards Agnes. She scuffled backwards, but the faster she moved the closer he came.

  Suddenly Agnes felt a jolt run through her body and the man started to fade. She felt another jolt and the entire room fizzled and disappeared. Agnes blinked and found herself back in her apartment.

  A young, dark-haired lady leaned over her, affixing an oxygen mask to her face. Someone else held her hand as they slid an IV into her arm.

  “Don’t move ma’am. It’s gonna be okay,” a voice called from nothing more than a blur.

  Agnes strained to focus. She could hardly make out the person that was talking to her. The face of an older man slowly came into view. He smelled like cigarettes and bubble gum. Agnes jolted, squirming backwards in fear.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered. “My men are out looking now. Do you know who did this to you?”

  Agnes strained to breath. She focused harder on him and could see the uniform he wore. She pulled at the mask covering her face. In a harsh toned she mumbled.

  “Yes, yes I saw them both.”

  CLEAN SLATE

  Daniel’s hands trembled as he closed the folder and grabbed his keys. His heart pounded like there was a man with a sledgehammer trying to beat through his chest. He struggled to swallow, coughing loudly as he leaned against the counter. His throat felt coarse and rough like he had swallowed sandpaper.

  Daniel took a deep breath to compose himself. Now was not the time for panic. He needed to act, but he needed to act decisively.

  Gritting his teeth, he stormed out of the house and jumped into the car. The tires squealed as he ripped down the street and around the corner. The engine belched into the night, whining as he angrily floored the gas pedal.

  “Damn it!” Daniel cursed loudly, banging on the steering wheel. “Damn it…Damn it!”

  He punched the throttle harder and the little sports car tore into the pavement. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. This whole time the answer was right in front of him.

  It should’ve been obvious. Every clue he needed sitting there, staring him in the face. How could he have missed it all?

  Daniel could already see tire tracks leading off the road as he pulled up to the exit. Slinging the car off the shoulder he sped down the winding dirt path and disappeared behind the trees. He could hear the water grumbling up ahead and he slammed on the brakes a few feet from the river.

  “Tom! Tom!” Daniel yelled at the top of his lungs. He jumped out of the car in an almost hysterical frenzy.

>   Frantically, he looked from side to side in a panic. There was no sign of Tom, no sign that anyone had been there except him.

  The reeds swung erratically in the wind. The cloudy water churned and gurgled as it swept past him.

  Daniel paced nervously, back and forth across the muddy soil. His mind swarmed with unanswered questions. Where was Tom? Why wasn’t he here? Daniel didn’t understand.

  Suddenly, the sound of sirens erupted into the night. The glow of the blue and red lights flickered into the sky. Daniel whipped around and looked towards the road.

  He couldn’t see the cars, but he could hear them coming. It was the sound of doom, the sound of his impending destiny. It was the sound of reality, Daniel had been set up.

  Daniel grunted and buried his face into his hands. He knew how this would end. He was certain that Tom’s dead body was only feet away. He was trapped, left there to take the fall. The murky depths on one side, the authorities on the other.

  “Fuck!” Daniel cursed the night in anger. He was better than this, or at least he thought he was.

  The blaring sirens grew louder and louder. Every passing second Daniel edged closer to a collision with fate.

  He gritted his teeth as he waited for the inevitable. He knew they’d be heading down the path any moment. The FBI or U.S. Marshall’s, or some squadron of officers eager to take him dead or alive.

  Daniel flirted with the idea of taking to the river. It was his second home and he was as comfortable there as he was on dry land.

  He looked out at the bold waters in front of him and envisioned how they had quickly swallowed Victor’s body. The river had also devoured his car in seconds, like everything else that went into it. Suddenly the water didn’t seem like such a good idea.

  Something moved in the bushes behind him and Daniel turned around. He stepped closer and reached out his hand. The leaves rustled like paper as he pushed them to the side, but he saw nothing.

  The blare of sirens was right on top of him. Daniel looked back to the road as an array of lights flickered through the leaves like firecrackers. He braced himself, but to his relief they kept going.

  The lights passed over his location and vanished. The sound of the sirens peaked and then began to fade away.

  Daniel scratched his head. He couldn’t make sense of what was going on. Then he heard a familiar voice coming towards him.

  “Hello, Daniel,” someone said in almost a whisper.

  Daniel spun around just as Monica emerged from the bushes behind him. He froze, his face contorted with confusion. Stuttering, he tried to speak, but couldn’t form any words.

  “Don’t worry,” Monica spoke softly. “Your friend is here.”

  “Tom…Tom, where is he?” Daniel jabbered.

  Monica nodded her head to the side as Daniel caught a glimpse of a body partially covered in sand and hidden by the reeds. He ran off and knelt next to Tom. He placed his hand over Tom’s chest and shivered. His body was cold and wet and a look of surprise was frozen on his face.

  Daniel grimaced. Tom was a capable man, yet there he lay defeated with his throat slashed. He didn’t even look like he’d put up a fight. He deserved better than this.

  Monica stepped closer with a smirk on her face. She looked pleased, she looked satisfied, but not with Tom’s death, with Daniel’s reaction. She marched forward until she was only a few feet away from him.

  “Don’t you fucking move! Not a step closer!” Daniel yelled, shielding Tom’s dead body with his own.

  “Now love, is that anyway to talk to your wife?” Monica grinned at him.

  “Why, why did you do this?” Daniel was almost in tears.

  “Seriously Daniel, you still haven’t gotten there?” Monica looked at him with disappointment. “Well Tom, sure did. That’s why he had to go. I never really had a problem with him.”

  Daniel looked on as Monica started to pace. He’d shared the same bed with this woman for years, but now she was almost unrecognizable. Underneath the face he knew was the shadow of someone sick and twisted. There was a hint of evil, a smile of sadistic pleasure that lingered just beneath the surface. This was a side of her Daniel had never seen, a totally different person living inside of his wife.

  “Yeah, good old Tom, he did alright by me. Shame he was so fucking nosey, couldn’t leave well enough alone,” Monica professed and then stopped talking. She cocked her head to the side and fixed her eyes onto Daniel. She glared at him for some time as he knelt next to Tom’s body.

  “You on the other hand!” she spat. “You pathetic fucking excuse for a man. The worst!”

  Daniel looked into her eyes as she talked. They were cold and uncaring. Her words were spoken as if they came from someone else.

  “Why?” Daniel started to whisper.

  “Oh, don’t give me that shit!” Monica screamed. “You just stood there, you could’ve helped, but you just stood there.”

  Daniel looked at her in confusion. Nothing she was saying made any sense. Monica grunted and moved closer.

  “You watched him rape me. Beat me to death! But no, I was stronger than you thought. I was stronger than him, stronger than both of you.” Monica jabbed her finger at him.

  Daniel’s mouth fell open and he gasped. The memory of that night had haunted his dreams for years. It was his little secret that he couldn’t confess, even to Ned. He’d fooled himself into thinking it was just a dream, but if he was honest, he always knew. He could’ve never imagined however, that the lady he watched from the shadows was Monica.

  “And your fucking self-righteous father. Who was he to judge me? Oh, his precious little Daniel couldn’t do wrong. Blame it on the whore! That’s what I was, nothing but a worthless whore!” her voice echoed across the river.

  Monica wiped the tears from her face as she started to pace again. She mumbled to herself, pounding her fist into her palm.

  “But I showed him, I showed them all,” she giggled.

  Daniel felt another jolt. It was as if he was finally putting the last piece together on a puzzle.

  “The Rocky Hill Killer, was you?”

  “I would’ve thought that was obvious by now,” she shook her head at him.

  “Monica, why?” Daniel asked, but he knew the answer.

  “That’s not my fucking name!” Monica screamed. “Not anymore. My name is Agnes. The girl you and your fat worthless friend left for dead.”

  Daniel slowly got to his feet. A realization was starting to dawn on him, Monica was gone. It twisted his mind to think that what they had shared was never real. But he could see, he could see now that she was a stranger.

  Monica eyed him closely, as if she could read his thoughts. “Yes, that’s right. It’s all been a lie. I never loved you. I just wanted to take everything, everything from you. Your father, your friends, your fucking career. Even that little pathetic life that grew inside of me.”

  Daniel jerked at the sound of her words.

  “Does that bother you, Daniel? You always wanted to talk about it. You wanted to know how I felt,” Monica smiled. “Sandra helped me do it you know? It wasn’t that hard. But then that bitch thought she had me over a barrel. She thought she could take what she wanted now that she knew my little secret. She had to go to. Just like the sheriff and his whore of a wife. I was really hoping he would’ve killed Victor for me, but you had to step in.”

  Daniel was no longer listening. He breathed deeply, watching her closely, waiting for his chance.

  “I would’ve ended all of this sooner, but you had to run off and play soldier. I guess it ended better this way. I could’ve never imagined the grief I’ve caused you now. To build a man up and then tear him down, it’s…it’s orgasmic.”

  Agnes stopped talking and stared at him. She reached behind her back and withdrew a shiny revolver that Daniel immediately recognized.

  “Oh, looks like I found this,” she jeered at him.

  “I don’t understand Monica…I don’t get it. You loved me, I loved y
ou,” Daniel pleaded.

  “Are you fucking serious?” Monica looked offended. “Poor, poor Daniel. I killed every mother fucker that had anything to do with it. Love you? I hate you! You are my final piece of work. I’ve dreamed about this since killing your fucking pathetic father.”

  Daniel tensed up at the mention of his dad.

  “Oh…still having a tough time letting go? He begged you know? He begged me to spare him. You talked about him like he was such a warrior. Oh, how long I’ve wanted to tell you the true cowardice of the man. Crying and pleading for his life in front of a little whore.”

  “So, what now, you kill me and then what?” Daniel asked defiantly.

  “You’ll never know,” Agnes grinned.

  She squeezed the trigger and the air crackled like thunder. There was a blinding flash followed by a surge of heat and Daniel collapsed into the mud. His body fell over Tom’s and rolled into the reeds.

  Agnes held the smoking revolver at eye level. Her jaw was clenched tight, her hands shaking with anger. “Now I start over you piece of shit!”

  ~THE END~

  Continue the series with

  Murderer’s Row

  The Vengeance Trilogy Book Two

  Available July 2019

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  About the Author

  http://www.amazon.com/author/rashadfreeman

  The date was October 31, 1979. The air was cool and a light fog blew in from the gulf, cloaking the Tampa area in an ominous, tight-fitting tunic. The annual Halloween festivities had just begun and a night of mischievous tomfoolery was afoot.

  Scandalous and nefarious characters took flight. Doorbells were rung and ill-boding tricks were played regardless of the treats given. This was the dark reality of the bustling Florida metropolitan.