Cutting Room

by T. S. Worthington

  Would they be able to catch him nowadays? With the modern forensics techniques and crime investigation skills that they had nowadays, would they nab him up before he killed more and more people? Would he stop at five this time? Would that be enough to satiate his thirst?

  What if…

  Chapter 2

  “Coming Attractions”

  Through the fog and the haze of a deep sleep came a loud noise. At first the noise had no name or face, no identity attached to it, but it was growing louder. It was no longer just a sound, but an intruder who seemed to be hell bent on destroying whatever little vestige of sleep he had left. He tried to hang on to that state and just put the noise into a dream, where it belonged. It would be a great new home for it so he could continue his mission of sleep and rest.

  But the noise refused to go anywhere. It refused to be put down and it refused to be silent. In fact, the more pressure placed upon this loud intrusion the louder and more defiant it became until he was sure that there was nothing left to do with it but answer it.

  He had tried to ignore it and pretend that it didn’t exist and it didn’t really matter to anyone, but that was proving futile as his head began to ache in arcs of pain rolling up and down the back of his head. Why was this thing destroying him? The pain was trying to divide his brain in half, causing his head to split open with pain.

  He could not take it anymore.

  Max opened his eyes, soaking in the reality he had left behind in search of a few hours of rest.

  He was greeted by the noisy intruder—his phone ringing loudly only inches from his face lying on his nightstand.

  Behind that he could see his clock radio that he’d had since junior high, before he had the wonderful iPhone that his entire world now depended on. The clock read 6:09 a.m.

  What the hell? Who was calling him at this ungodly hour when he’d only been asleep for barely two hours? It was a Saturday morning. No one should be awake at six a.m. on a Saturday. That was absurd and he could not stomach it.

  Max groaned and grabbed his phone off the desk. He was sure he’d set the thing to go to voicemail after four rings; he wondered how many times this person had called repeatedly, refusing to even speak to his voicemail at this insane hour.

  The call ID said it was Jay Morgan.

  His heart stopped in his chest for a moment. If Jay was calling him at this hour it was because he had continued drinking when he went home and he was still hammered and bored out of his skull, or there was something really wrong. Max erred on the side of caution and answered the phone.

  “Hello?” Max said, his voice groggy and almost unrecognizable.

  “Dude! Oh, shit! This is bad!”

  Jay was out of breath to the point that he was practically panting. His voice was shaky and the fear was screaming through his quivering voice patterns.

  “What’s wrong?” Max asked sitting upright in bed and slinging his legs over the edge. He felt like he might need to start moving any moment. It was just an insight. Jay’s shaky voice was triggering some weird fight or flight instincts in Max.

  “I just heard on the scanner… oh shit! It can’t be…” Jay said not making sense.

  “Man, you have to calm down. You have to speak slowly in full sentences here.”

  Max heard Jay swallow for a minute.

  “Ok, I was listening to my police scanner and I heard that there has been a double homicide at Lori and Joanie’s place. It’s a huge scene. Oh, man I think they are dead!”

  The whole world started to spin before Max’s eyes right then. He felt his body trying to lean over the edge of the bed and roll onto the floor, but somehow it remained upright and he remained breathing through the heavy pressure he felt pelting against his chest. He had to remain calm while he processed the information.

  For some reason an image popped in his mind right then that had nothing at all to do with the information he had just received. He was ten years old and playing dodgeball in gym class. He hated gym class because his coordination was even worse then than it was now and he never seemed to be able to get his body to do what his mind told it to in time.

  Well this time Ross Myers threw the ball hard right at his face and he missed it as he tried desperately to put his hand up. The ball smacked him hard in the nose and instantly his whole face went numb. He was finding it tough to breath, and he could feel the tears seeping out of his eyes as the snot began to fall from his nose.

  He wasn’t sure why but he fell to the gym floor hard, banging his knees in the process. Reaching up to wipe the snot off his nose he pulled back his hand to reveal that it was now covered in a red substance—blood. His blood. He remembered that he stared at the blood in a state of shock, confusion, and even wonder, trying to make sense of it all. It was the first time he had ever been injured to the point that blood was spewing from his nose.

  His face still felt numb and overriding the numbness was a strange warmth that was getting hotter and hotter. It was moving from his face through his eyes and towards the back of his head. What the hell was happening to him? He remembered thinking this as the coach came walking over slowly with a mildly annoyed expression on his face. Coach Williams was always such a dick. The man despised any sort of weakness, even in a ten year old.

  “Are you there?”

  Jay’s voice was now blaring in his ear driving him out of the strange memory he had just had. Max instinctively touched his face and nose, expecting to see blood dripping from it, but his hand came away clean. He had not thought about that day in several years. Why would that suddenly pop into his head?

  Denial. He was trying to deny everything that Jay was telling him. Lori could not be gone. It had to be a mistake. He had to stay calm. They didn’t really know anything yet. It was possible there was a mistake somewhere or a false alarm. That sort of stuff happened all the time.

  “What do you mean they have been murdered? Would you listen to yourself at how crazy that sounds? “Max asked. He was vaguely aware that he was shouting too. Again he tried to calm himself down, but his heart was now beating wildly in his chest. He felt like he might be about to pass out and his heart was getting faster and stronger, thumping hard in his chest as if someone was beating on him with a small fist or hammer even.

  “I know what I heard! I’m not crazy. Dude, we gotta get over there now.”

  “Ok, we will check it out. But I’m sure you are overreacting like you always do,” Max said.

  “When the hell have I ever overreacted to anything? I’m always calm as a cucumber,” Jay said.

  Max didn’t really have a response to that because Jay was right. The guy was always in control and he was usually the one calming Max down.

  “Ok, I’ll meet you over there,” Max said.

  “No, I need you to pick me up. I’m too hammered to drive still,” Jay said.

  Max groaned. Jay lived about ten minutes in the opposite direction from Lori’s.

  “Ok, I’ll pick you up. Be waiting outside. I’m on my way now.”

  Max quickly got dressed and rushed out the door to his car. He was aware that his legs were not really working properly. He was not drunk or hungover like Jay was, but his body was still mostly asleep and he could not really focus all that well yet. He was not sure he should be behind the wheel yet, but he had no choice. If what Jay said was true…

  He pushed the thought instantly out of his mind. He could not think like that. He had to stay positive. But his positivity was running out as he repeatedly dialed Lori’s number; it kept going straight to voicemail. Her phone must have been off or maybe the battery had died.

  He was actually glad he was picking up Jay. He did not want to really face this alone and it helped him delay finding out the answer to this question of whether or not Lori and Joanie were still alive.

  As he drove along he continued to repeatedly speed dial Lori and Joanie’s phones. The calls kept going to voicemail.

  ***
r />   It was true. All of it.

  It had been about twenty minutes since Max and Jay rolled up to Lori and Joanie’s house only to be greeted by a circus of police and reporters who had the entire area blocked off. Max had tried to move through the tape and get past the police to enter the house as his rational thinking flew out the window and he leapt out of the car barely remembering to put it in park.

  He was quickly grabbed by two burly cops who forced him outside where he was to wait and calm down. They said someone would be out to speak with him shortly while two rookie officers were told to look after him and Jay so that they didn’t get past the line again.

  The waiting was the most brutal thing that Max had ever been subjected to. He wanted nothing more than to run inside and find out what had happened to his girlfriend and her best friend. The police were expecting him and Jay to just wait there until they were ready to speak to them.

  Jay went from reporter and cop to reporter and cop trying to ask questions and seeing if he could ascertain any information but he was mostly greeted with cops who refused to speak or reporters who wanted to interview him instead. Max could see that Jay was getting a bit hostile and he thought he was going to punch this one nerdy looking reporter from the six o’clock news, but Max intervened and got him settled down again. Jay wasn’t the type of guy who handled grief in a mature way; he had a tendency to get physical at the drop of a hat if he was really tensed up. Max preferred to just internalize things until they ate him up inside.

  “You are family?”

  The voice came over their shoulders. Jay and Max both stood up off the curb quickly and turned around in unison. Standing in front of him was the prettiest looking detective Max had ever seen. She was tall, with long brown hair and a model’s figure. Her face was the perfect mix of beauty, brains, and a kick ass attitude. She reminded Max of a cross between Brennen on Bones and Beckett on Castle.

  It was amazing that even at a time like this Max’s sex drive didn’t shut down. He felt instantly like a damn pervert.

  “Yea, what is going on? My girlfriend and her best friend live here. Are they ok?” Max said. He tried to hold his breath and inhale slowly to slow himself down. He was aware that he was firebombing her with questions.

  “I’m Detective Roberta Gellar. I’m sorry to tell you this, but there has been a double homicide. It’s the worst looking scene I’ve witnessed since I’ve been on the force. Your friend’s are both deceased.”

  Max felt the pain springing up in his chest as the weight fell on his shoulders, sinking him back down until he was once again sitting on the curb, his face buried in his hands. He realized then that he had known it was true since he arrived on the scene. It was all right there perfectly laid out, but he had actually convinced himself on a basic level that there was something else going on entirely and that Lori and Joanie were just fine. They were maybe hurt or maybe someone had tried to do something, but failed.

  “Son of a bitch!” Jay yelled beginning to pace back and forth. “Who did it? Do you know anything?”

  “We don’t have any leads yet, but I was hoping you might be able to tell me something that might be useful.”

  “Like what? We don’t know anything,” Max said.

  “Well, don’t be so sure. When was the last time you saw or spoke to them?” Gellar asked.

  “It was last night—uh, actually just a few hours ago. We got in at about three a.m.”

  “In? From where?”

  Max explained the film festival and the after party club hopping they had explored.

  “Ok, so that was the last time you saw them? When you dropped them off at the door?”

  “Yea, that’s what he said,” Jay said angrily.

  “I’m just trying to get the facts. The better you help me do that the quicker we will find out who did this to your friends. OK?” Gellar’s voice was cold and her gaze was even icier as she glared at Jay. He barely held eye contact as he walked away.

  “I’m sorry about him,” Max offered.

  “It’s ok. Everyone handles grief in their own way,” Gellar said. “Is there anything else you can remember? Do you remember anyone who was hanging around you at the film festival? Anyone who might have followed you to the club?”

  “No, but it wouldn’t have been hard to do. We were all so jazzed and excited that anyone could have been watching us.”

  “Ok, well here is my card. Call me if you think of anything,” Gellar said.

  “What happened to them? How did it happen?” Max asked as Gellar started to turn away.

  Gellar swallowed hard. “I’m not at liberty to go into detail. You are better off not knowing.”

  Max watched Gellar walk away wondering what that meant. As he glanced around at the circus of reporters all eager to ask Gellar and every other cop the same thing he knew that he would find out soon enough in the news media.

  Chapter 3

  “Aftermath”

  “This is the worst crime the community has seen in many years,” the news reporter said.

  Max listened without watching the screen. He was in the kitchen trying to eat a cold cut sandwich and wishing that he was already finished because of the ghastly details of what had really happened to his friends were about to be divulged.

  He tried to keep his mind strong and his stomach stronger as the reporter went on.

  “Both victims Lori Thomas and Joanie Michaels were twenty-three, both recent graduates of the West Virginia University film program, had their throats sliced with a sharp instrument. They were both positioned together in the same way with their foreheads branded by the sign of the cross. Police failed to confirm whether they are dealing with a religious group or not. Both victims had recently completed work on a horror film about Jack the Ripper, which made its premiere at the West Virginia Film Festival in Charleston on Friday night. It opened to rave reviews, but some have wondered if it touched the wrong nerve in somebody. A community is still reeling in shock as we try to make sense of this gruesome crime.”

  Max turned around and clicked the remote to turn the television off. He leaned back in his chair staring at the half eaten sandwich, allowing his mind to go into some sort of limbo of thought.

  Lori and Joanie were killed just like the first victims in the movie. It was all exactly the same as they had filmed it and just as they had watched it Friday. The news was right; they had set some psycho off. The police were probably not even aware of this, yet. He wondered if they would even make the connection at all. It was a bit of a stretch, but it was right there in front of him.

  He picked up the phone and called Detective Gellar.

  She picked up almost instantly and she listened patiently while he recapped the basic plot of the movie and exactly how the murders of his friends mirrored it exactly.

  “Ok, this is a big break. Now we have a motive for the crimes,” Gellar said. “I need you to think here. Was there anyone acting strangely around you guys at the festival? Was there anyone you remember as being a little odd? Have you received any messages on social media or email—anything at all that sounds bizarre or like it might be raising some flags.”

  Max thought hard as she went through the questions, but he had already kind of asked himself some of those same questions and nothing out of the ordinary was coming to mind. “No, nothing. I haven’t really had a chance to check the social media outlets or the fan pages. With everything that’s gone on I just haven’t felt like doing anything but sleeping. It’s easier to just hide from the pain, you know?”

  “Yea, I do. I’ve lost loved ones. It does get easier, but it does not happen overnight,” Gellar said. “Go through and check all of your social media platforms. I’m going to do some google searching and check to see if I can find anyone that might have anything bad to say about your movie, especially anything that would tip us off to someone motivated to do something like this.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  After Max
hung up he opened up his laptop and went to work checking out the Facebook page for the movie, the Myspace profile that he hardly ever used, and several other pages. After a little over an hour of searching he was not finding anything that stood out. It was nice to see that he was seeing mostly positive things about the movie, although there were a few naysayers who just didn’t get it, but no one who acted like they wanted to kill someone over it.

  His door opened suddenly behind him in the kitchen. Max’s heart leapt to his chest and he almost tripped himself trying to turn around and prepare to run. He had a quick vision rip through his mind of the killer coming for him. He had some sort of a score to settle and he was about to take care of it.

  But Max felt like a total tool when he saw Jay standing there looking at him like he was some kind of freak as he walked through the door.

  “What’s up, man? You ok?” Jay asked closing the door behind him.

  “You might have scared me a bit,” Max said.

  “Yea, I can get that. I’ve been a bit jumpy myself. I swear I gave myself a heart attack stepping out of the shower and seeing my reflection in the mirror.”

  Jay grabbed a beer out of the fridge and sat down at the table.

  “Yea, that would give me a heart attack too,” Max joked.

  Jay made a “oh my God that is the funniest and most retarded thing I’ve ever heard” mocking face and the two had a quick laugh. They’d always had that kind of rapport where they could just joke and laugh with each other and somehow it helped them get through whatever was currently bothering them.

  “I guess you heard the news?” Jay asked.

  “Yea, I heard.”

  “God, that is creepy as shit. I came over here as soon as I heard. Not to sound like a total pussy, but I did not want to be by myself after I heard it.”