Detective David King of the Bates City Police Department stared at the woman across from him. She had short brown hair, sharp features, and was petite, five-two and maybe a hundred pounds on a good day. Her wide eyes were gray and stared at the ashtray in front of her. There was a lit cigarette pressed between her pink lips, the ash long from failing to be flicked. The smoke seemed to dance joyfully around her head before climbing higher and gathering in a swirling mass a few inches above her head. It was her third cigarette since King had entered the room, about an hour ago, and her hands still shook when she finally removed the thing from her lips and flicked the ash in the ashtray. Most of it landed on the table, annoying the detective immensely.
Detective King was reaching the end of his patience, but still he kept quiet. Jessica Matthews had went through a traumatic experience, and if pushed too hard, she might possibly shut down. She was attacked by a woman who was looking for her co-worker, Andrew Wood, who turned out to be the Crucifix Killer, the man that had killed her lover, Chelsea Davis. At that moment she was blaming herself for Chelsea’s death and wrestling with the feelings of enjoyment or despair of the murder of Andrew Wood, who she had believed was a friend. There was a lot on her mind and he could afford to give her a few more minutes. Not like he was going to catch the murderer overnight anyways.
While Jessica took a long drag off of her cancer stick, King turned to the left and looked at his reflection in the two way mirror. His age was starting to show, though he didn’t feel forty-two was that old. Gray hairs were peeking through his short black hair along the sides of his hair. Wrinkles had appeared seemingly overnight marring his once flawless dark skin. Along with crow’s feet, there were bags under his dark brown eyes revealing the exhaustion he felt, though not because of his age. That night had been a long one. He had already been pulling long hours, trying to figure out the Crucifix Killer and had been planning on going home when the call had come in. Someone had figured out who the serial killer was, and was planning on killing him.
He dropped what he was doing and rushed to the address that had been given. Never in all of his years as an officer and detective had he driven so fast, weaving in and out of traffic. When he had made it to Andrew Wood’s house, he was the first on the scene. The first to find Andrew’s corpse in front of the stairs with a gaping hole in the chest where his heart should have been. Dark blood was splashed along the walls and stained the hardwood floor, a trail of it leading into the kitchen. Ignoring the plastic-covered dining room, the only source of light, he headed into the kitchen in hopes of finding Andrew’s murderer in there.
A fear gripped him that he had never felt before. It had started as soon as he entered the house, but got worse the deeper he went in, careful not to step on any blood and contaminate the crime scene. His palms were starting to sweat and his hands shook, making it hard to keep a grip on his gun. Sweat was pouring profusely down his forehead and into his eyes. A tremor started in his breathing and he felt the paranoia of something watching him crawl across his skin. The fear and paranoia held him so tight that when a woman sprang from the basement, he had froze. It wasn’t until she had flung open the back door he had regained his senses and shouted, “Freeze!” When she did not, he had fired and chased after her. He got off two more shots, one of which he was sure had hit her, before watching her jump over a six-foot fence as if it were nothing.
As he had given chase, more officers had arrived, and searched the house. One of the officers had bravely traversed the basement and found the woman chained to the wall, babbling incoherently. When he got close to make sure she was alright, she started to scream and did not stop. The EMTs had to sedate her so that they could get her out of the chains and to the hospital. Detective King had decided to stay out of the way and had not caught a glimpse of the woman until she was carried into the kitchen. The state of her tore a hole in his heart. Clothes and skin dirty, but her hair perfectly clean. He had already knew something was wrong with Andrew Wood, but seeing that woman cemented the idea. Was he happy the man was dead? No. He had wanted the man in the hands of the law and dealt justice in the courts. That would have been much more satisfying for him. Instead, King got two dead bodies and another murderer to catch.
And that was why he now found himself in front of Jessica Matthews, hours later, running on no sleep. Since she was the only one alive and coherent enough that had seen the woman’s face, he was hoping to get a description good enough to put it out on the news. Maybe someone else had seen the woman somewhere and would be kind enough to call in a tip. Anything to get this case moving in the right direction so he could go home and sleep in his empty bed.
It had been six months since his wife, Tabitha, of nineteen years had packed up all of her things and moved out. The longest six months of his life, made longer with the Crucifix Killer case, the very reason his wife had left. She said he was too obsessed with the case and she could no longer handle it. She needed a break from him and it. No divorce papers were filed, but there didn’t need to be. The marriage was over and she would not be coming back. For a while Tabitha had been looking for a reason to leave him. The Crucifix case gave her the perfect excuse. He just let her go, knowing there was nothing he could do that would change her mind. Once Tabitha was set on doing something, she would do it. Didn’t stop him from continuing to wear his wedding ring though. He didn’t plan on finding someone else, and it just felt good on. Made him comfortable in this time of chaos. At least their daughter was older and living on her own.
Jessica took a long drag off of her cigarette and exhaled. “Never thought I’d see you again or this room,” she said, a humorless smirk on her face. The last time she had been in that room with Detective King was when Chelsea Davis had first gone missing. The girl had blonde hair and blue eyes and immediately King suspected that she had been taken by the Crucifix Killer. After the body was found there was one last interview with Jessica just to see if she could think of anything that she might have forgotten, a clue overlooked. A fruitless expedition, she being too distressed to recall anything. “Looks like you’ve aged ten years since the last I saw you.”
King gave a low chuckle though it had not been a joke. He knew he had aged quite a bit from the stress, but he hadn’t believed it was that much. Hopefully, Jessica was exaggerating. “Been a long night,” he retorted. “For both of us, I’m sure.”
A snort left the young woman as she snuffed out her cigarette. “That’s an understatement,” she said as she grabbed another cigarette from her pack sitting on the table. Normally, there was no smoking in the interrogation room, but it had been decided to let this one slide, though no one had foreseen her smoking that much.
She took another long drag, held it for several seconds, and then exhaled slowly, tilting her head to face the ceiling. “That woman, you should stay away from her.” She moved her head to look him in the eyes. “She’s not… normal.”
“What do you mean?” Anything to keep her talking. There might be something important in what she says, no matter how crazy it might sound.
“When she first came in my back was turned, but my hair stood on end and I felt a crawling sensation up my spine.” Her eyes had taken a distant look as she recalled the scene. Detective King decided it best not to interrupt her. Might make her lose focus. “I turned around and saw her, and knew there was something wrong with her. All I wanted to do was run, but I couldn’t move. At first I thought it was just me, but when I looked at the customer’s, they were backing away from her as well. A couple of them left.” That reminded the detective too much of the fear he had felt when he entered Andrew Wood’s house. It was too similar to be a coincidence.
“I greeted her like I usually do with every customer, and she immediately asked for An… him.” King never thought he could hear so much disdain from a single word. “I thought she was going to kill me when I said he wasn’t there. I think she might have if she hadn’t left.” She glanced down at the cigarette burning in her hand. “I’ve been trying to quit smoking. Up til today, I hadn’t had a single one. But that made me need one. I got one out of my boss’ secret stash and went outside. She was there waiting for me. Somehow, she knew I was a smoker. It was like she smelled it on me.”
Jessica’s breathing had quickened and she took a moment to calm down. “She threatened me and then took my phone. When she was calling him, she told me to play dead. I didn’t understand why, but I kept my mouth shut. While they were talking she started to go through my pictures. She found one with Chelsea in it. That’s when she figured out who he was.”
That was something he couldn’t’ keep quiet about. “Are you telling me she didn’t know that Andrew Wood was the Crucifix Killer before she came to you?” They had been going on the idea that somehow the woman had figured out who Andrew Wood was, had decided to take her own brand of revenge. Her motive. Hearing her say that changed the game. Now, as far as they knew, the woman had no motive to kill them man until after attacking Jessica. Just what in the hell had that woman been after?
“No, she didn’t. I was out of my mind with fear, but I saw the realization in her eyes when she saw that picture.” She flicked her ash and then took a hit. “She asked for his address and I gave it to her. I thought she would kill me if I didn’t.” That last bit was a lie, but the detective overlooked it, hoping no one else noticed. He didn’t think she deserved to get accessory to murder with all that she had been through. And it wasn’t like they could threaten her with it to get more information, since she was already telling them everything she knew. “She kept my phone.” They had already located it at Andrew Wood’s house. “I guess for the GPS or something. After that, she left.” She sighed and her gaze fell to her hands. “I wonder why she didn’t kill me?” It was said quietly, as if hadn’t intended to say it aloud.
The question might not have been directed toward him, but he answered it regardless. “You weren’t her intended target.” Jessica glanced up at him, confused. “Maybe she didn’t want to cause unnecessary bloodshed. She didn’t kill you because she didn’t have to.” His gut was telling him that was right. That this particular murderer only killed who was necessary. A hitman of some sort? But who would have wanted Andrew Wood dead? Yes, he was the Crucifix Killer, but that was the only thing that had been going for him. He was a barista, for God’s sake. Not really on the scale of importance. Unless he screwed up the wrong person’s coffee. Could be possible. He had seen people murdered for less.
“Before we let you go, is there anything else that you can remember? Anything that she could have said or done that caught your attention?” She really hadn’t given him too much to go on, but he hadn’t been expecting much. The last time they had talked, he had gotten the impression that Jessica was a bit of an airhead and really didn’t pay close attention to anything other than what she deemed important for herself.
There was several seconds of silence while Jessica played everything in her head. “She didn’t seem to know how to use my phone.” She gave a fake chuckle. “It’s funny really. A woman told me she would kill me if I ran away, and I can’t help but think how she couldn’t use my phone.”
“Was she an older woman?” The description Jessica had given the artist hadn’t been a very good one. Just that the woman had reddish-brown hair and she was about five-five. An approximate age would be nice though he didn’t think it was really going to help too much. It was something more than what they had to go on.
“No. She looked like she was my age, maybe a little older.” So early to mid twenties. “She also had a dog.” Detective King asked her if she could describe the dog. The look she gave him said that she would remember that thing for the rest of her life. “It was big. Bigger than any dog I had ever seen in my life. Like, bigger than me big. Black. Very black. I didn’t even see it until it stepped into the light. It’s teeth were long and sharp, and it’s eyes were yellow. I don’t know what kind it was, but it was not one I had ever seen before, or heard of.” She snuffed out her cigarette. “I know this is going to sound crazy and I know it can’t be true, but I got the feeling that the dog was just a puppy.” Her eyes met the detective’s and he could see that she was being serious.
Jessica threw herself back into her chain and started to rub her eyes. “I’ve told you everything that I know. Can I go now? I would like to take a shower before I go to sleep.”
Detective King allowed her to go, having no more questions for her. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, pressing his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his wide nose. At the moment, he had a dead serial killer that had his heart ripped out. The suspect was a woman in early to mid twenties, with reddish-brown hair, that was about five-five, and could hurdle a six-foot fence. Oh, let’s not forget the giant black dog that’s supposedly a puppy.
This was going to be one hell of a case. He hated it already.
Sin Eater 