The City of Murder

I feel the cold, light breeze brushing my body and make my hair stand on end, as I crawl down the dirt road. Each new gust like a nail digging further into my skin, sending shivers throughout my body. Even worse, I feel the darkness consuming me, as if I move further into an abyss of evil with each trudge forward.

Barely seeing the path in front of me, it practically takes on a red hue from my bloodshot eyes. Trying to recall how I ended up in such a predicament I strain but quickly give up deciding to focus on living. My bare feet dragging on the ground suddenly hit a sharp rock, and I feel the jolt of pain shoot through my nerves and my toes become wet with blood.

“Grrr…” I growl quietly partly out of my own stupidity and partly out of fear. “How could this have happened— Ahhh!” I scream, my leg having had finally given out from weakness, as I tumble off the side of the road. Each rock and pine needle leaving its mark in my skin, each one an injury on its own to my boney body. At this point, the fall had felt like an eternity, until I fall hitting the moist ground hard.

The pain intensifying, worse than ever, between my slashed-open foot and my leg, which had to have been broken by now. Through the dusk, shades of maroon shoot across my vision like shots of pain. The world begins fade and I fall asleep with dry leaves as my pillow and the night sky as my blanket.

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"Good morning sunshine," I hear another human voice like music to my eyes. Stinting my eyes against the afternoon's strong rays and finally adjust to the brightness, to see a strange man standing over me. “I’m going guess that you’re hungry, so I’ll be right back,” the man states, walking out of the room.

I give a pathetic attempt at standing but still get a decent view of the room. White drapes across the windows, alabaster walls, a snow-colored nightstand, next to the pale yellow bed I lay on. Obviously this man either lived in an insane asylum or has some OCD towards light colors. I hope the second one. Whoosh, the door flies open quickly frightening me but the fear went away once I realized it was him.

In his hands, he carried what seemed to be a wholesome breakfast on a silver platter. “I don’t believe we have been properly introduced, miss. My name is Ben Harper. And you would be…”

“I am… well honestly I cannot remember quite well,” I responded, then pausing to think. Coming up empty-handed and truly dumbfounded at how I remembered nothing prior to this morning, I repeated, “Wow. I just don’t know… I mean, I’m pretty sure that it will come to me.”

“Of course, I mean you must be quite confused given that tumble you had,” Ben agreed. “I actually have to go into town now so, I’ll be back before dark. Just so you know I only have one rule to the house no entering my room,” pausing he added. “Also don’t be going anywhere now. I want to keep you here,” he demanded ominously. “Umm… Well because of your condition and all,” he finished clearly trying to take back what he had said. Ben then dashed out of the room slamming the door behind him.

Blinking twice before I loudly asked, “What the hell was that?” Then realizing that no one else was in the room, I pushed the question to the back of my mind, and began to devour the feta omelet.

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Loud church bells from town rang 6 o’clock, and the curtains now glow with the deep orange of sunset. Downstairs I hear Ben walk in and actually feel happiness at the prospect of seeing him again, as not only had I been alone in a plain room for ten hours but I was starving. Hearing him march up the stairs I leaned up trying to look better despite being a mess.

Coming in, he inquires, “So who’s ready for some roast turkey with gravy?”

“What’s the occasion?” I retort back his strange words creeping back into my mind.

Answering he says, “Well… Nothing really. I mean I hoped that you might have remembered something. You know, from last night and all.”

“No I actually haven’t.”

“Excellent,” Ben countered mischievously, faintly reminding me of a Simpson’s character.

“Ben… What did happen last night? The last thing I remember was falling off the road. Though I don’t have any idea how I got there.”

“Ummm,” he hesitated before answering. “Last night I found you in the woods behind my house. You were all beaten up, with that broken leg of yours and bruises everywhere. Really I know as little as you do about where you were last night.”

“Well if you say so… Please can you start on dinner now? I’m famished actually,” I requested, getting up to follow him down the stairs.

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Helping me up the stairs he left me at the door of my room, calling back, “Night.”

“Night,” I yelled back. Lying down on my bed, I turned off the nightlight, and attempted to fall asleep, but I still feeling something nagging at my mind. Truly, not wanting to admit it to myself, I knew what that alarm going off in my head was. For some reason, Ben seemed familiar, and not in a way like he was a good childhood friend. Thinking to myself, I mean what kind of person says “excellent” or “I want to keep you hear”. Then a thought came back to me of how he said no entering his room.

The thought tempting me and I knew that the insomnia would continue until I solved this mystery.

Rising from the bed I half tiptoed, half limping through the doorway and down the rickety stairs to the second floor. Then, creak goes the floorboard nearly making me jump out of my skin from fright. Pausing momentarily to gather my wits, I continued on. Reaching the door to his room I felt my stomach lurch, that kind which was a warning and an encouragement at the same time. Yet still I wondered if I should enter, for one of two things would happen. I could disturb a peaceful man’s night sleep or discover a wicked secret…

Summoning the sudden strength to open the door quickly, it luckily swung open smoothly. A dim nightlight glowing on the wall it took me but a minute to adjust, but really should have wished that I hadn’t gone in at all…

The walls sprayed dark crimson with illegible words. In the corner, axes in a pile like murderous toothpicks. On the table, daggers laid out. A criminal’s playground.

Now, a rush of memories comes back to me. The lonely night, trying out a new club outside the city, that strange man stalking me, walking, and then running away, the dark desolate road, and the fall. Across the room, lying on the mattress, the stalker’s bloodshot eyes pop open.

“I’ve been waiting,” he growls.

That was my signal. Charging down the stairs, I ran as fast as I could out the back entrance. Trying to follow the narrow dirt path I hoped to reach the town or maybe just survive. Adrenalin pumping through my veins, a fresh stream of sweat wetting my back, and my knee acting up again, all made me realized that he would one day catch me. Suddenly the outline of the town gave me hope.

The nearest building, a small post office, then felt my loud slamming on its door, yet when no one answered I gave hope until I door flew open. Ben stood in the doorway, his two hellish eyes staring back, a long dagger in his hands now an inch from my face.

I step back slowly, not if I should turn and run, but he continues, the blade near enough to scar my face. I go for the safer route dashing away to the nearest door, now frantically banging on the doors pleading for help. To my surprise I still see Ben advancing slowly as if in some murderous trance.

Abruptly, the nearest door creaks open, and a seemingly sweet woman saunters out just as slow.

“Oh miss please—,” I scream, but am cut off when one by one all the doors open revealing glossy-eyed children and parents; they lift their hands to show off the long daggers. With the zombies advancing step-by-step, it takes me a moment to react. I turn on my heal running to who knows where, but I only knew that I had get out of there before I was turned in human-kabobs.

Down the lane, I spot a dimly lit phone booth and run to it hoping that the phones work in this city of murderers. Finding a connection, I dial 911 with the hard metal keys, and meanwhile pray for help.

I now hear on the other end of the line, a woman answer her voice like an angel’s, “911, what’s your emergency?”

Breaking down into tears, as I realize that the people are but a hundred yards away. Answering, now without hope of rescue, “Please just tell my parents that I love them. I know you can’t help my but just tell them please.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but where you and what is your emergency?” the operator asks.

“My name is Julie Smith. I have being attacked by murders and you must save me,” my lips start to quiver as Ben stands just feet away. “Please… Please… Noooooooooo!” I scream and suddenly feel a sharp pain in my chest and the world fads to darkness. Now in the very end, I found that darkness still wins, good-bye world.