by Jon Athan
Adam smiled and said, “Open the window. Come on, I don't want to fall out here.”
As she opened the window, Charlene said, “I should push you off for acting like such an asshole.”
Adam climbed through the window and crawled across her bed, then he sat at the edge of the mattress—nonchalant, as if he weren't breaking the house rules.
Charlene asked, “What are you doing here? You scared me.”
“Scared you? I always come through your window. What's the big deal?”
Charlene crossed her arms and stared down at the floorboards, visibly anxious. She wanted to tell him about the call, but she didn't know if she could trust him. She only allowed him into her home because of her father's presence. Otherwise, she probably would have pushed him off of the ladder and let him spend a night at the hospital.
She said, “My dad's been working the night shift recently. I don't want you to wake him up. I want him to rest and you know he doesn't like it when you're here without his permission.”
Adam chuckled, then he responded, “So, your dad is knocked out right now? Shit, I could have just walked through the front door.” He beckoned to his girlfriend and said, “Come on, sit down with me. Don't worry, I'll be very, very quiet.”
Charlene stared at Adam with a deadpan expression, then she burst into a gentle giggle. She held her hands over her cheeks and blushed. She couldn't resist her boyfriend's charm. Despite their arguments—a rocky year riddled with fights—she still loved him.
The couple sat next to each other on the bed. They shared a long, passionate kiss. Adam rubbed the nape of Charlene's neck while Charlene caressed Adam's clean-shaved jaw. One thing led to another and Adam's hand ended up on Charlene's chest. He gently squeezed her breast and leaned forward, trying to push her down to the mattress.
Charlene pulled away from Adam's lips, then she stood from the bed. She shimmied as she organized her clothing. She thought about having sex with Adam to relieve her stress, but she couldn't go through with it. Death and dick didn't blend well in her mind.
Adam asked, “What's wrong? You said your dad was sleeping, right? The man sleeps like a fucking bear. We could fuck on top of his body and he wouldn't notice. Come on, let's have some fun. It's been a while, you know...”
Stony-faced, Charlene shook her head and said, “No. No, I can't. I can't just have sex with you with... with everything that's been happening. People are dying, Adam, and it just doesn't feel right.” She rubbed her eyes and swiped at her nose as she sniffled. She paced back-and-forth and said, “I think it's Kyle. I got a phone call earlier from some creep. I don't know what he was talking about, but everything else leads to Kyle. Even if he didn't kill Tiffany, he could have killed Anna. He's hiding something and he could be coming after us. I just know it.”
“Charlene, it wasn't Kyle,” Adam said. Charlene stopped pacing and stared at her boyfriend, baffled. Adam explained, “I heard a rumor when we were evacuating from the school. Some guys were talking about some other freshman that went into a bathroom near the English classes. They said that kid saw Kyle in there.”
“S–So?”
“He was dead. I don't know how he died, but, if that rumor is true, then he's dead. There's nothing to worry about. So, we can, you know, mess around a little.”
As Adam grabbed her wrist, Charlene shook her head and said, “No. Just... Just stop it. I'm not doing this right now, Adam.” She pulled away from his grip and stepped in reverse until she reached her dresser. She said, “If Kyle is dead, that means there really is a serial killer out there. The killer is clearly targeting students, too—students like us. We're not safe. He could be anyone. I mean, he... he could even be you.”
“Me?” Adam repeated in disbelief. He nervously chuckled, then he asked, “Why would you think I'm the killer?”
“I don't know. Your phone is 'conveniently' out of service, you showed up late to school today, you showed up here right after I got that call, and... and you've just been so distant recently. I don't Think I even know who you are anymore.”
Adam watched as his girlfriend sniveled, disheartened. Like Charlene, he still loved her despite their fighting. He cared about her well-being. His sexual urges often controlled him, but he wouldn't allow sex to destroy his relationship.
Adam said, “Don't talk like that, Charles. I'm sorry. I'm... I'm sorry for everything. It's been a rough year, I know. We can make it better, though. Sit down. Let's talk about this.”
Charlene stared at Adam with a raised brow, caught off guard by his understanding attitude. She sat down beside him, then she leaned on his shoulder. Adam pushed her hair away from her face, then he wrapped his arm around her body. His macho personality wouldn't allow him to admit it, but he felt comfortable around her—like a newborn baby with his mother.
Adam asked, “So, who do you think did it?”
Charlene stared up at Adam and said, “I don't know. I just don't know. I really thought it was Kyle. It could be anyone. A student, a parent, a teacher, a cop...”
“We need a lead. If we want to find out who's killing everyone, we need to get away from this dead end.”
“Where can we find another 'lead?' We're not cops, Adam.”
“Yeah, but we can ask the only person who actually spoke to the cops—Melanie. She has to know something, right?”
Charlene leaned away from her boyfriend. She gazed into Adam's eyes, analyzing the sincerity behind his words. Does he know something I don't?–she thought.
Charlene asked, “Are you saying you want to go talk to Melanie? Right now?”
“Yeah. If this is really bothering you, then we have to get to the bottom of it. Let's sneak into Melanie's house and talk to her. She lives like three, maybe four blocks away. Let's go.”
Charlene clenched her jaw and glanced around the room as she seriously considered the suggestion. Her eyes stopped at the doorway. She could still hear her father's snoring. The thought of betraying her parents' trust killed her. However, the thought of actually dying at the hands of a serial killer was much more worrisome.
Charlene said, “Okay, I'll go. Let me just grab my jacket.”
Chapter Nine
Like House Arrest
“Come on, just jump,” Adam hissed.
Charlene sat atop the brick wall in the backyard, the sun setting behind her. She glanced back at the alleyway behind her—there was no turning back. She took a deep breath, then she leaped off of the wall. The young woman grunted as she landed on the grass beside Adam, teetering as she struggled to keep her footing.
Adam grabbed her arm and said, “I told you it wouldn't hurt.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Charlene muttered.
She swiped at the dirt on her skirt and stared at the one-story house directly ahead. The little red house belonged to Melanie and her family. A police cruiser with one police officer was parked in front of the house, so the teenagers decided to enter the home through the back.
Adam approached the back door. He peeked into the house through the glass panes on the door. He found himself staring into a hallway. A few of the rooms appeared to be illuminated, but no one was walking through the home.
Charlene asked, “How do we get inside?”
Disregarding the question, Adam slowly turned the door knob. To his utter surprise, the door was unlocked. He pushed the door open and stood in the doorway. He could hear the local news from a television in the living room down the hall.
With a devious smirk on his face, Adam joked, “She thinks she's about to be killed, so she leaves her back door open... Real bright, Melanie.” He glanced over at Charlene and whispered, “Have you been here before?”
Charlene nodded and whispered, “Yeah, once or twice.”
“Which one is her room?”
Charlene peeked into the hall. She whispered, “It was, um... the second door to the right.”
“Good. Let's move in real fast. As soon as we're in there, I'm going to cover her mouth so she doesn't scr
eam. You explain everything to her. We don't want to get caught here.”
Charlene nodded in agreement. The couple crept into the small home, walking with their heels and shoulders raised. They peeked through an archway to the left—the kitchen was dark and it looked like it was empty. Shadows swallowed the other end of the room. They ignored the first door on the right. From the second door to the right, they could see the living room to the left.
Melanie's mother, a frail brunette woman, sat on a sofa in the living room, a blue robe draped over her body. A stack of envelopes sat on the glass coffee table in front of her; a cup of wine sat beside the stack. The woman appeared stressed, focused on her bills. The sensationalized news—which always focused on the worst of humanity—was loud enough to mask all of the noise in the house.
Adam leaned closer to Charlene's ear and whispered, “Remember: move fast.”
Charlene nodded, determined. Adam tightly gripped the door knob. He stared at Charlene and nodded three times—one, two, three, go! The door swung open.
Eyes full of fear, Melanie quickly turned on her bed and stared at the door. She gasped and opened her mouth to shriek. Adam swiftly lunged towards Melanie's bed—three wide strides. He covered her mouth and wrapped his other arm around her body, then he rolled onto the bed. He physically stopped her from screaming, but he still shushed her.
During the struggle, Charlene slipped into the room and quietly closed the door behind her. She approached the wrestling pair with her index finger over her lips—please, be quiet.
She whispered, “Melanie, it's Charlene and Adam. We're not here to hurt you. Please, keep it down. Please.” She gently caressed Melanie's face, wiping the tears from her rosy cheeks. She whispered, “We're not going to hurt you. We just need your help.”
As if she were calmed by her gentle touch, Melanie loosened up. She stopped resisting Adam's grip and she stopped whimpering. She nodded at Charlene, communicating without uttering a word—I understand.
Adam removed his hand from Melanie's mouth, then he slid out from under her body. He whispered, “I'm sorry. We knew you'd scream and we didn't want to cause a scene.”
As Adam stood from the bed, Melanie crawled across her mattress until her back hit the wall. She stared at the intruding couple, baffled by their presence in her home. Although she only saw one murderer in the video chat, she didn't trust either one of them.
Melanie asked, “What are you doing here?”
Charlene responded, “I... I don't know how to explain this. It kind of seems... I don't know, it seems really stupid now that we're here.”
“We want to know about Tiffany's murder,” Adam said. “I'm really not interested in it, I don't think it's any of our business, but Charlene is worried and I don't like that. So, we came here to ask you about it since you 'supposedly' saw it. What do you know, Melanie?”
Melanie stared at Adam, then she glanced at Charlene. She gazed into Charlene's lustrous eyes, hypnotized by the fear tormenting her benevolent soul. The pair were acquaintances at school, sharing a chat here and there. They weren't deeply connected, so she wondered why Charlene would be worried about the killer.
Melanie nodded and said, “You should be worried about him. You don't want to end up like Tiffany.”
Charlene asked, “What really happened to her?”
“She was... She was killed. I guess you know that already, but, I mean... she was slaughtered. God, I still can't believe it.”
Melanie held her trembling hands over her face as she whimpered. Tears streamed across her cheeks and mucus filled her nostrils. The terrifying memories broke her heart.
Her voice cracking, she said, “A person hid in her closet while she was looking for something. When she came back, the... the person came out of her closet and killed her. He... He... He ripped her jaw off. He really did. He–He almost cut her tongue off, too. He did it all with a knife. Only a knife... It was just like the rumors of Anna's death, except... I actually saw it.”
Charlene held her hand over her gaping mouth while Adam furrowed his brow and took a step in reverse. The couple were disgusted by the gruesome details.
Eyes welling over with tears, Charlene stuttered, “Wha–What did he look like? The killer... What did he look like? Kyle told me he was wearing a coat and a mask. Do you remember that?”
Melanie responded, “Well, Kyle wasn't lying. I remember everything. He wore a black raincoat and his hood covered his hair. He wore a mask, too. It was like a... a normal paper-mâché mask, but it was painted. Lipstick on the lips, eye-shadow around the eyes, and... and blood on his cheeks. Maybe it was red paint, but I'm sure it was supposed to be blood. It looked like some kid painted it. It was so creepy...”
Charlene bit her bottom lip as she thought about the description. The raincoat reminded her of the person she saw before school. The mask sounded familiar, too. Like a child painted it, she thought, didn't someone paint masks at school? She couldn't put her finger on a specific face, though.
Disrupting Charlene's contemplation, Melanie said, “I don't trust anyone... not even myself. Since last night, since Tiffany's murder, I've been afraid of everything and everyone. I can't stand being alone, but I can't stand being with anyone else, either. Any noise I hear, every shadow I see... I think it could be him. Whoever 'he' is...” She glanced over at Adam and said, “It could even be you.”
Adam cocked his head back, astonished by the allegation. He asked, “What? Why me? Why not Charlene?”
“Charlene and Tiffany are... were the same size. The person who killed Tiffany was bigger and stronger than her. He was a man. I know that for sure... I don't know who it could be, though. He could be some random psycho. He could be a parent, a cop, a teacher. I don't know.”
A teacher—the idea echoed through Charlene's mind, clouding her skull and flooding the crevices of her brain. She quickly sorted through her past teachers while considering each piece of evidence in the murders. She eliminated the female teachers and focused on the mask. Her eyes widened as the thought dawned onto her.
Charlene said, “I don't think I ever saw a mask like that, but I remember seeing weird drawings on a piece of paper on Wilson's desk. I saw them there a few times in our sophomore and junior years. Kind of like... like bloody, warped smiley faces.”
Melanie nodded and said, “It could be him. He's big, he's strong, and he knows us... He could be killing his students for some sick, demented reason. You know, I heard he likes young girls, so, who knows... I'd stay away from him if I were you.”
“No, we should get closer to him,” Adam said. Charlene stared at her boyfriend with a set of wide, protuberant eyes that said: really? Adam continued, “Yeah. We've already gone this far. I know where Wilson lives, too. I can call Michael and tell him to pick us up, then we'll stake out Wilson's house. We can get to the bottom of this.”
Charlene puckered her lips as she considered the suggestion. She glanced over at Melanie and frowned. Melanie's sorrowful eyes spoke volumes about her opinion on the matter. If Wilson was the killer, they would be walking right into his clutches.
Charlene said, “We'll watch his house for an hour or two. If we see anything suspicious, we call the police. Okay?”
Adam said, “Deal. Can I use your phone to call Michael?” As Charlene handed her phone to him, Adam said, “One last thing: if it's not Wilson, I think it would be smart if we dropped this. Okay? Catching our possibly crazy teacher is one thing, catching a real serial killer is a whole different monster... I'll meet you outside.”
Charlene watched as Adam quietly crept out of the room. She turned her attention to her traumatized classmate. Melanie glanced every which way as she listened to every creak in the house and each whoosh outside. She couldn't control her anxiety, she couldn't trump her fears.
Charlene said, “We'll leave now, Melanie. Well, unless you want me to stay and–”
“Just go,” Melanie interrupted. “I don't want anything to do with you, with Adam, or with that
psycho out there. Just go. Leave me alone.”
“Okay, okay. I'm sorry for... for everything.”
Charlene cracked a nervous smile and waved at Melanie. Her classmate didn't acknowledge her, so she reluctantly crept out of the room. She ignored the living room, completely avoiding Melanie's mother, then she escaped through the back door. She met with Adam in the backyard, then the couple hopped over the brick wall. They jogged back to the street, eager to meet Michael and continue their investigation.
Chapter Ten
Revelations
The buzzing lamp posts, the full moon, and the glittering stars illuminated the cold streets—the sun had already fallen. A few people wandered the suburban streets after dark, casually strolling down the tree-lined sidewalks. A black sedan sat at the corner of an intersection. The vehicle offered the perfect view of a beige two-story house near the corner.
In the car, Michael sat in the driver's seat, Adam sat in the passenger's seat, and Charlene sat in the back. The friends kept their eyes locked on the beige house.
Michael yawned, then he asked, “What are we doing here again?”
Adam said, “I told you already: we just want to watch Wilson for a few hours.”
“Why?”
Charlene explained, “It's a long story, but we think Wilson might have something to do with all of the murders recently.”
Michael stared at Charlene through the rear-view mirror, watching her with a deadpan expression. He huffed and shook his head, simultaneously amused and bothered by the explanation.
He said, “I told you: if you keep digging, you might get buried. What makes you think Wilson, our math teacher, is a killer? Huh? He's a fucking math nerd, Charles! He doesn't have what it takes to kill someone, especially one of his own students. You've seen how he looks at every girl in his class, man. He couldn't kill 'em...”
Charlene responded, “Like I said, it's a long story. I've been through this with Adam and we both agree: he could be the killer. If not, he might lead us to him.”