Return of the most notorious serial killer

decline of serial killers

“No, that can’t even be possible,” looking down at the test on the counter. Pregnant! It said she was pregnant. Five weeks and two days, to be exact. How the hell did this happen. She had been on the pill since she was 13 years old. Her mother made sure of that. Not that Evie was sexually active, but she was in an industry where the photographers were grabby, and the drugs were always available. At 20 years, old this was death to her career and her future. Evie could not raise herself, let alone a child.

Stumbling through the house, she had to make some quick decisions. Did she keep it, or should she get rid of the mistake? Could she even do something like that?

It was all a bad dream. Evie knew it was. Laying back on the bed, clicking her heels together, she would force this to be a dream. “There’s no place like home,” repeating those words over and over, the room spun, her eyes closed, and Evie drifted to the darkness.

“Wake the fuck up bitch. Did you think I was done with you yet?”

His eyes bore holes in her. Evie could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. A rancid smell that made her stomach churn. She was going to vomit. She was startled when he yanked from her bed. His shadow dragged across the floor of her home. For the first time, she knew the palm reader was right. She would die before her 21st birthday. What they failed to tell her is she would not be dying alone.

“Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be his name…..” she was praying for the first time in years. Her cheeks now stained with tears, she knew death was knocking, but how quickly? One step, two steps, he was taking her down the wooden staircase, each thud sending waves of pain through her small frame. Where the fuck was he taking her? Why not just kill her in the bed and get this over with already?

“Stop yer praying. God doesn’t have time for little bitches like you.”

She kicked her feet as her fingernails scratched along the freshly polished wood. She was beyond the point of screaming. Who would hear her anyway? The Drake winery sat on 250 acres of farmland, and she was there alone tonight. The guard had asked for the night off, and of course, she allowed it, not knowing this would be the one night he came for her—the boogyman.

Not stopping till he reached the front porch, the night air chilled her to the bone. It was 46 degrees, and Evie didn’t dress for the elements. A t-shirt and pair of panties were all that covered her slender frame.

“For the love of God, let me go. Please. I have plenty of money. I won’t tell anyone you were here. I swear, I will never tell. Just let me go,” she screamed. Her voice echoed through the grounds. Of course, there was no one to hear her tonight.

His hand released her dark locks, had she convinced him to let her go? Or was this all part of the sick game he played with her? Cat and mouse were getting old between them. For fifteen years, they had been doing this same song and dance. He always allowed her to live in the past, but if the fortune teller was right, her luck had just run out.

Scurried across the floor of the porch, she huddled in the corner. It was his laugh that stopped her. The wind seemed to carry that sadist laugh, slapping her bare body with the echoing whispers of evil. What could turn someone into this? Fifteen years of vengeance buried deep inside, and for what reason? She witnessed a murder as a toddler but never told a soul. She never broke that promise.

The stench of cigarettes filled the air, and she only knew where he stood because of the glow from the tip of his cancer stick. People like him didn’t die from the disease. They died of old age. Sad how the rotten apples could live, and the good people died.

“It’s time for you to pay your debt. I have let you enjoy life for all these years. Now, I am claiming what is rightfully mine. Your soul!” he laughed.

Before his words could be processed, he once again had her in his grasp. Yanking back her head, she rested against his chest. Was this is how it would end? How she would finally die. Weird that you can wake up every day and not be thankful for what you have, but the moment you are in jeopardy of losing it, you can imagine a life without you in it.

“Please, god, no, please don’t kill me. I want to live. Please!” Evie cried.

The first slice into her abdomen silenced her. Eyes remaining open, she watched the sun start to rise over the hills. Was it always this beautiful there? Chips of birds in the distance rang in her ears, and the second, third, fourth plunge tore into her body. Limp, the afterlife came quickly for Evie.

“Get back here, you little booger,” calling out. She chased her daughter through the vineyard. She was this beautiful blond with eyes so big and blue that they could melt the hearts of anyone around her. Her mother stood on the porch watching them, laughing at her only daughter and her granddaughter. She finally was with her Mama again. Calling out to them both, Jessica laughed and told her she got a daughter just like herself. Moms curse, but Evie’s pride and joy. That bubbly little Princess was her world.

The world lost an angel that day. Or so the papers would read. He would never be caught, and his reign of terror continued till his death and the ripe old age of 90. Evie was his greatest regret. He loved that girl like his own, but a deal is a deal. She had to pay.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,” screaming, she sat up in the bed, her hand to her stomach right away. No blood there. She wasn’t pregnant, and this was all a dream, or was it? The fortune-teller said she would not live to see 21, and thankfully she had a few more months to enjoy what was left.

Still shaking, Evie stood, gathering her bearing before a quick run to the bathroom. She had a 9 am call that morning, but everything went black the moment she saw the scratches on the floor and looked down at her fingers to find remnants of blood and wood.

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