Killer Inside

Can we please not do this here guys? Thanks. It would be very nice if everyone just calmed down and waited for me to post the next chapter, yes? Speaking of which, I should start posting everything in a few days.

 

Ok, I've decided you guys have waited long enough. I'm not quite finished, but enough is done that I can start posting. So! Here you go, Chapter 33. It is short, I know, but it's just to wrap up Radke's PoV before getting back to KC next chapter. Enjoy, my lovely readers.


Chapter 33

All the evidence lay before me. Almost noon, I had spent all night piecing together information. What it had all lead to was that the soccer coach was really having an affair with the mayor, and we didn't have a suspect again.

However, there was one figure at all the murders: Kerri Cadwell. I needed to speak to her as soon as possible. She had direct connections to all the victims and probably saw the killer at some point.

Taking another sip of coffee, I looked at the pictures of the victims. They had been brutally murdered, yet no sexual violations. That's what bothered me the most.

Serial killers killed for money, or sex. And this was neither as far as we could tell.

Goss walked in, tired, and threw a file on my desk. Turning away from the evidence board, I picked up the file.

"Background on the latest victims. Clean slate, except for about two years ago, there was a call to the police from Toby Starr. Thought his father was abusing his mom. Police showed up, no arrests made."

"Thanks," I mumbled. Pinning the photos of the new victims up, I looked at them. All seven of them.

"Radke, we have **** all. We have nothing on this guy. What the hell are we missing?" Goss said in frustration.

"A motive, there's no motive. Nothing connects these kids except school. So I think someone at the school's responsible. C'mon," I said halfheartedly, putting my coat on.

With a sigh Goss followed me out.

------

"Well that worked," Goss complained sarcastically.

The school was pointless. All the teachers were too upset to talk, ad those who weren't didn't know some of the kids. Again, we nothing could be pulled from there.

We sat in the car, watching people walk by as I sulked in our failure so far.

"The witness, Cadwell?" Goss asked suddenly.

"Kerri Cadwell, yeah."

"Let's bring her in. I think she might be hiding something."

I pondered that. "Why?"

"Well, look at it this way. Maybe the killer isn't planning on hiding anything, but making a statement. I mean, what would she be trying to say? Nothing. She'd be taking something way. Showing how easy it is to do that."

I nodding. "Interesting."

"When I met that girl, she was hardly upset. Yes, she broke down crying after she saw the bodies of her friends but... She's not going through grief at all. Toby? His best friend, Chris, is friends with her. He is; I could see in his face how pained he was."

As he was talking, piecing it together, I started the car.

"Now, a motive? I'm not sure. But I do have a feeling what she's taking away from each kill. The last one was definitely love, and freedom to love. The first one was most likely something at school, friendship or bullies maybe. Next, responsibility. To hold a job. I'm not sure of the others, but I'm pretty sure I'm on the something."

"Do you think she realizes what she's taking away, or is it planned?"

"I don't think she knows. Something's calling her to make those kills, and that's just a clue left behind she doesn't know about."

Racing off, we were at KC's house in a few minutes.

Jumping out, we took protocol's rule of dealing with a suspected killer. Guns out, safety on, and shoot if need be but wound, not kill. In self defense, kill.

Guns out, we approached the door. Goss knocked, "Open up! It's the police!"

 

Thanks, but I'm not going to post 45 chapters of my story in the Writer's Café. I'll mention it there, don't worry, but I'm not going to post the whole thing. Also, more out today.

 

Back to KC's point of view! Enjoy



Chapter 34

They knocked again, and I slowly opened the door. Two officers stood, guns drawn.

"Can I help you?" I asked. Chris was by my side in an instant, Lucky too.

"May we come in?" one officer asked.

"Um, yeah, sure." I held the door open for them, and they holstered their weapons.

The officer on the right, I recognized. I had seen him at the crime scenes.

"Agent Radke," he announced, flashing his badge. Ah yes, I remembered. "This is my partner, Agent Goss."

I smiled at both. "Again, can I help you?"

A knock on the door interpreted them, and I saw Goss's hand touch his weapon as I went to open it.

"Excuse me," I said.

Colt was there, like I excepted.

"Hey," Colt said. Looking past me, he saw the agents and gave me a questioning glance.

"C'mon in." I introduced him to the agents, pointing to each in turn.

"As you were saying?" Chris said to the agents once formalities were over.

"We'd like to speak with Miss Kerri Cadwell alone, if you please Mr. Christian Jones. We'll speak to you next."

I saw Chris's eyes flash at the use of his full name. I knew he hated it.

"Of course. We can speak in the drawing room," I offered. "Chris, Lucky, Colt, just hang here. I'll be back in a few."

Chris nodded. He looked troubled, but stayed silent.

My heart fluttered as I walked with the agents towards the drawing room. Could they know? Had they made the connection?

Hands shaking, I showed them to the room, and sat down across from them. We were silent for a moment.

"How old are you, Kerri?" Goss finally asked.

"KC, please. I'll be 16 on the 26th."

Goss continued to ask questions as Radke scribbled notes.

"KC, are you going through grief?"

"No. Not that I'm aware of," I answered slowly. We were started to tread on dangerous ground.

"And yet you saw two of your friends moments after they died? Covered in fresh blood, bodies mangled? Their screams still echoing around the room? Their bodies still functioning?"

Each question hit home, and the screams of Mary and Emilie filled my ears.

"Yes. I did. But no, I'm not griefing," I said carefully. I paused for a moment and decided to be honest, really honest with the agents. Something that I truly did think, and wasn't something Damien had conjured in me.

"I think of death as what-went-wrong, not loss. I mean, to a certain degree, yes, you can't help it. But with young kills like this, or suicides, or accidents, I fell that there was something keeping them going. And when they died, that was taken away. I feel that.... We should be able to prevent that, you know? Like, there was always something that could have been done to prevent their death. Maybe if a parent was just a bit more caring, holding that hug a bit longer so the car missed child when they walked across the street. Or if the public was a bit more helpful, or a witness remembered just a bit more, then the newest victim wouldn't have died.

"That what feel like. That there was always something that could have been done. That's why I'm not grieving, because I feel like I could have been there just a few minutes sooner and then I would have caught the killer. But I wasn't. I could go on blaming people that caused me to be that few minutes late but the truth is, it's already happened and there's nothing I could have done to prevent it. I just need to be there earlier next time." I spoke honestly, and truthfully.

Both agents stared at me with the weirdest expression.

"Did I saw something wrong?" I asked when neither spoke.

Goss slowly shook his head before,"No, no you didn't. I've just never heard someone describe it quite like that before."

He gave a small cough and then asked, "What was your connection to the first victim, Jade?"

"She was my bully," I immediately said. "Yes, I feel bad she died, but I'm not bullied anymore and my life isn't living hell."

Radke wrote it all down as Goss continued to ask questions. Finally, they excused me and asked for Chris. But after all this talk of murder and blood, I could feel me changing.

Damien was here. His voice muttered unrecognizable words through me as I rose and left.

Under the stairs, I found Chris and Colt explaining football to Lucky.

"You're up, Chris," I told him, smiling.

He walked past and my hand rested for a moment on his as he headed for the drawing room.

Sitting down, I tried to help explain football but just made a mess of it. Before long, Colt was teaching both of us.

"Look, these are the defensive tackles, these are the offensive tackles. That guy is the tight end, the other one's the quarterback," he tried to explain.

"Wait," Lucky interrupted, "On offensive you have the ball right? So why do you need tackles?"

Colt sighed and I laughed. "Look, I'll go grab some chips from the store. You've got a half hour before the game begins."

He nodded glumly as I grabbed my helmet. "Have fun!"

----

 

Lovely readers, enjoy. Sorry for delay, my life's really busy.


Chapter 35

I locked my bike out front the store. The face of a large lion bared done at me as I walked through the entrance. A large department store, it sold clothes to food. But I wasn't here only for chips.

Heading straight to the kitchen isle, I grabbed a knife off the display case, breaking the strap. I held it in my hand as I walked to the bathroom nearby. I saw barely anyone.

The bathroom was small, only three stalls and two sinks. A grisly purple wallpaper covered the walls, and made it hard to look at with the lights reflecting off of it.

Humming came from the larger stall, and I stood waiting right outside. Examining the small patterns on the door, I waited for her to come out. When the door did open, it was a young woman, maybe 20.

No, she's too old. Damien passed doubt through my mind about killing her.

I let her pass and watched her leave. I waited for a few more minutes before I saw the door open again. Hiding the knife behind my back, I smiled at the young girl walking through.

She gave a polite smile back but then actually broke into a real smile.

"Wait, KC?" She asked.

I nodded, not being able to place the face. Looking her up and down, I thought hard. Blue jeans, boots, leather jacket. Red hair, about my age, brown eyes.

"I'm Addie, Chris's neighbor," she reminded me.

I broke into a smile. "Of course! I'm so sorry, it's been so long!"

She laughed. "It's ok."

I remembered her now, the kind yet badass girl that lived next to Chris. He often spoke of her, and I remembered she was extremely friendly and welcoming when he moved in next door with his foster parents.

But she was also one to put up a fight and that's what I needed. A challenge.

I slipped the knife into my back pocket and moved to wash my hands, keeping the knife out of her view.

"Well, how are you?" I asked politely.

"Good, good," was her answer as she moved into a stall.

We held a polite conversation while she used the restroom. Meantime, I moved the "Out of Order" sign in front the woman's restroom so we wouldn't be interrupted. I heard her flush, and waited for her by the sinks.

"So, how's basketball?" I asked.

Smiling, she started to wash her hands. "Right now, the team is top going into the finals. For winter ball. We'll see how good we are when the real season comes around."

"You might not be there to see that," I said, pulling out the knife.

Addie froze and immediately stepped back. I went to strike and she jumped back into a stall, slamming the door on my face. The door collided with my nose and blood poured everywhere. Stumbling back, dazed, I couldn't focus. But I could hear Addie crawling on the ground, her leather jacket scrapping the floor.

She burst out of the stall behind me, punching me in the head. I fell towards the door, knife still in hand. Even though I could barely see, I still stayed between her and the exit. Addie recoiled at the sight of blood, pacing back from me.

I worked my way to my feet, struggling still to focus. Kicking shut the stall door, I caused Addie to jump back. The sink was sill running and I stuck my head under for a moment.

The cool water hit my face and started to sharpen my senses, especially to the throbbing in the back of my head. I looked for Addie and couldn't find her.

Then I heard her, behind me. I spun around to see her by the door. Flinging myself forward, I drive the knife into her. She crumbled, screaming. A well placed kick hit my hand, sending the knife spinning.

Grabbing her foot, I pulled her towards me. It was now a battle if strength and will.

We started to wrestle, starting with me on the top. Addie's legs thrashed, hitting me in the chest. I gasped for breath as I tried to pin them down.

I socked her in the gut, cutting off her scream. Scrambling for the high ground, I pinned her legs and climb on top of her while she was stunned.

Her nails scratched my face and arms as she clawed at me. I grabbed one of her wrist and tried to pin in to the ground as she dug her nails deep into my skin. One hit a nerve, and made me scream as pain shot through my hand.

I wrestled harder, and managed to pin both wrist down. Breathing hard, I leaned in close to Addie's face.

"Go to hell," she spat.

I head butted her, causing her nose to crack. It was sickening and grisly, and blood soon started to cover her face as well.

Then I started to strangle her. I pressed my thumbs deep into her throat. Her nails cut my skin again but I ignored them. I was going to kill her.

Addie then punched me in the face. I fell to the side as she tried to get away. But her foot was still trapped under me. I jumped onto her again, slightly dazed. She was now face down. Pulling her head up with her hair, I pounded it into the tile floor.

With all my weigh, I hit the floor with her face over and over until my arm felt weak. I rolled off the body, exhausted. Blood covered my hands and face, the floor was littered with bits of skin and bone.

Once I finally caught my breath, I pushed myself over to a toilet and threw up. Then, I stood and walked shakily to the sink. I slowly washed the blood of my face and hands. Then, grabbing the knife, I rolled the body over to look at Addie's deformed face.

Her nose was shattered, and her jaw cracked and sticking out of place. She had no front teeth, and her tongue was cut open. Blood covered everything. Next to her, I wrote her number in the blood: Eight.