Delusions

by Amy Crandall

  So she did. Wrapping her hands around her aunt’s throat, Abigale squeezed until her fingers were purple, and the body beneath her stopped moving.

  AFTER THE INTERROGATION

  November 10, 2015, 9:23 P.M.

  Case No. 20150625-04

  Detective Richard Collins had a theory, one he’d been working on for the five months since the suspect, Abigale Katherine Fern, had walked out of their station and into the arms of her aunt. It was that night, November tenth at half-past nine, that he proved it.

  Collins had been pulling a late shift at the station, sifting through files and videos that had been collected from Abigale’s case. When Agent Ross returned to Quantico, he left behind some files, knowing that Collins would be curious enough to investigate. Ross had his theories, but Collins didn’t want to hear them out until the moment he noticed something on one of the tapes he’d been watching.

  During the interrogations, Collins had been asked to retrieve footage from the school concerning Julia Holland’s murder. At the time, he didn’t know Abigale was a potential suspect in the death of the seventeen-year-old. He’d fallen into the trap that she’d set perfectly. She wanted him to think she was innocent, that she could do no wrong.

  He felt like a shit cop for not realizing it earlier.

  Abigale Fern was a manipulative liar, and a good one at that. She faked multiple panic attacks and acted like the perfect victim. Nobody but Ross suspected that she was guilty of anything. By the time Collins believed him, she was outside of his jurisdiction.

  Figures.

  He gnawed on the end of his pen as he stared at the laptop screen, watching the compiled footage from the day of Julia Holland’s murder. Surveillance was set up at the girls’ bathroom where the body was found, and the hallway leading to it. He watched with bated breath as a girl with her hair pulled back into a high ponytail entered the girls’ washroom—the victim. Two minutes later, another person appeared on the screen. This girl wore a baggy sweatshirt and capris. He didn’t remember her wearing that ensemble when he spoke with her after the murder, but Collins knew exactly who it was.

  Abigale Fern.

  Abigale disappeared into the bathroom moments later, a bag slung over her shoulder. There was no audio, so Collins was unable to hear the screams he knew he would hear if there was. Two minutes after that, Abigale exited the bathroom. She walked at a normal pace, but this time, Collins saw her expression. With a start, he froze the frame, zooming in on her features. A horrifying smirk lit up her face, a face that only the most insane was able to pull off. Her eyes were glazed over, and the bag slung over her shoulder much larger.

  That was when he noticed the change of clothes.

  She wore shorts now, with a loose t-shirt that exposed much of her chest. Collins noted this difference in behavior; the Abigale Fern he knew never wore anything revealing. He moved the frame so that he could take a closer look at the bag.

  Bingo.

  He took a screenshot of the bag, zoomed out of the frame, and pressed play on the video. Watching the suspect disappear from view, he let his mind drift.

  She really did it.

  Closing the video, he clicked into the screenshot. The bloody cloth hanging out of the bag was enough to condemn anyone. He’d put away killers for much less.

  He dialed a number on his cell. Putting it on speaker, he laid the smartphone on the table beside his laptop. Three rings later, a familiar voice he used to hate filled the line.

  “Agent Ross.”

  “Ross? It’s me, Collins.”

  There was a pause. “I thought you’d be contacting me soon enough.”

  Detective Collins’ eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Ignoring his question, Ross said, “Did you finally figure it out?”

  Glancing at the photo across his screen, Collins nodded. “Yes, I think so. I’m just confused about a couple of things.”

  “Such as?”

  Pursing his lips together, he said, “Her behavior, when she was being interrogated, seemed normal to that of a kidnapping victim. She didn’t appear to be capable of murder.”

  “Is there a question there, Collins?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Can you explain what I’m dealing with, here? She doesn’t fit the profile of a sadistic serial killer.”

  Ross sighed. “I have a theory. I believe she has what’s called dissociative identity disorder.”

  Collins leaned back in his chair. “A split personality would make sense. She seemed off during the interrogations. One minute she’d be fine, and the next she’d act incredibly defiant and violent. But wouldn’t her mother have noticed the changes? Why didn’t she go to a doctor?”

  “Ms. Fern had an abusive father and a mother who was so messed up in the head that she wouldn’t have noticed even if it were lying right under her nose. That’s probably where the split personality originated from. That and the fact that her father had been diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder ten months before Abigale moved to Brooklyn.”

  “Right around the time she and her mother moved to Arcata,” the detective mused.

  “Correct.”

  “Do you think that’s the reason they moved? Because her mother got scared?”

  There was a pause. “That’s my working theory.”

  Collins let that sink in before asking his next question. “What about that Facebook profile? You said you were going to look into it, but I never heard the result.”

  “Yes, I did look into it. Our technical analyst was able to distinguish that the profile was activated and used by one cell phone. I think you can guess whose.”

  No way.

  “Abigale Fern’s.”

  “Bingo.”

  “So, what you’re saying is—”

  “What I’m saying is, Ms. Fern’s second personality used the account under the name DarkHeart434 to communicate with her other half. Her main personality conjured up the stalking and threats, when there was no real stalker to begin with.”

  “But that doesn’t make sense,” Collins said. “Damien Thackston was—”

  “An entirely separate incident. There is no evidence that Mr. Thackston had anything to do with the Facebook account.”

  “But he confessed to the murders Abigale committed, and he did stalk her. It isn’t an entirely separate incident. He knew something was wrong with her, but he protected her anyway. How do you know for certain he didn’t have something to do with the Facebook account?”

  “We don’t,” said Ross. “All we do know is that Damien Thackston is dead, and Abigale Fern is on the run.”

  “On the run? Isn’t she with her aunt?”

  “You didn’t hear?”

  Collins frowned, staring at the photo frozen on the desktop screen. Goosebumps travelled down his spine as he took in her features. The face of pure evil. “Hear what?”

  “Collins, her aunt was murdered a week ago. It was all over the news. Fatal stabbing and asphyxiation. Abigale Fern hasn’t been heard from since.”

  THE END

  Acknowledgements

  There are so many people I would like to thank. I would like to thank my parents, who have supported me with my dream of becoming a published author since day one. My brother, who’s always had my back. My family, whose continuous support has driven me to keep sharing my passion. To Jarred, who I bugged all hours of the night when I needed to bounce ideas off someone. You never complained once, and I’m so grateful for that. Thank you all for believing in me, supporting me, and letting me follow my dream. I love you.

  To Limitless Publishing, who believed in me and my little Wattpad story. To Lori and Lydia for being so patient and allowing me to bother them on a daily basis about any questions I had or advice I needed. To Afton for helping me understand the ins and outs of sales. (You’re a lifesaver!) Most of all, I want to thank everyone at Limitless for their dedication, hard work, patience, and unending support.

  I would like to extend a speci
al thank you to my editor Felicia. She was incredibly patient with me and my repetitive phrasing throughout the editing process.

  To Deranged Doctor Designs, who created the gorgeous cover for this novel. Thank you! It reflects the story in such an amazing light.

  Thank you to my critique partner Natalie, who spotted things in the novel I had previously missed and listened to my constant ramblings about Abigale Fern and her journey.

  To Kelly, a fellow Limitless author, who supported me throughout my expedition on Wattpad and beyond!

  To all the authors I have connected with and befriended from the Limitless family. You are all wonderful people, and I feel honored to be a part of such an amazing group of authors.

  To all the bloggers and book reviewers who have taken time out of their busy schedules to read and review this story. It means a lot to me!

  To my amazing readers on Wattpad, who saw this story grow since its debut in 2016 and pushed me to keep writing and pursue my dream. I’m so grateful for you all. Thank you for standing by me even when I felt like giving in to writer’s block. You are all my inspiration and motivation to continue writing. In short, you’re all the real MVPs!

  About the Author

  Amy Crandall is an avid reader and novelist born and raised in British Columbia, Canada. She began writing in elementary school, publishing her first story on Wattpad.com at the age of thirteen. With the support of her loved ones and newfound friends on the site, Amy continued to share her thoughts and interests in the form of storytelling.

  Before her Wattpad.com days, she was published in A Celebration of Poets–Summer 2012 (Creative Communication, 2012) for her poem My Garden. That experience only drove her desire to further pursue writing. Her first full-length novel, “Delusions”, was a featured story on Wattpad.com, reaching #7 in the mystery/thriller genre, and surpassing 115,000 reads, before its publishing.

  When she isn’t envisioning a new story plot, Amy can be found camping with loved ones, getting lost in a great read, jamming to her favourite tunes, or giving in to her craving of Timmies’ iced lemonades.

  Facebook:

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  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18087411.Amy_Crandall

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  https://authoramycrandall.wordpress.com/

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  https://www.instagram.com/authoramycrandall

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  https://www.wattpad.com/user/xXAmy_CXx

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