by Willow Rose
When she had realized the door was locked, Anne had started running in the same direction as Peter had gone, hoping to catch up with him and maybe make it to safety with him. But she couldn't see him any longer and the door to the boys’ dormitory was locked as well, she discovered when she tried to open it, frantically pulling on it. She tried to yell and scream for help, but no one heard her. She tried another door, then another, but none would open. The shadow crept closer and closer and soon she heard it behind her. She thought it sounded like a big animal of some sort. She looked into its face as she turned and, in the split of a second, her eyes locked with his. At first, she almost thought she had just been silly…that there was nothing to be afraid of. Her mind had played tricks on her and, relieved, she had smiled at the face that she knew so well.
"Boy, you scared me," she said.
But the eyes had given him away. Oh, how they had scared her. Red and scorching, they seemed to see straight through her. They wanted her. She felt how they craved her flesh.
"What…What are you doing…?” she asked, but she knew she wouldn't get an answer. That was when she decided there was nothing left to do but make a run for it. Make a run for the forest and hope to find somewhere to hide in there.
Anne had never been out after curfew before. But Peter had been insistent. He wanted badly to take her out. To take her to the lake and make out. She had been afraid when they walked through the forest, and Peter had held her tightly in his arms, enjoying how the fear brought them closer. She had shivered with cold when Peter had put his foot on the ice of the lake and told her to come with him. She hesitated and shook her head. Anne wasn't a girl who liked to take chances. Going out like this through the forest after the lights were out wasn't something she would ever do, normally. Until Peter had asked her to come with him. To him, she couldn't say no. And she didn't withstand his charm long when he tried to persuade her to follow him out on the ice either. He kept pulling her hand and soon she went with him. The ice creaked underneath her foot and she gasped. Peter pulled her closer and put his arm around her. Then he kissed her for the first time. For fourteen-year-old Anne, it was her first kiss ever and it was worth all the wait and even the nervousness that had almost killed her all night at dinner, knowing she was about to do something that would get her expelled if found out, something her parents would never forgive her for doing.
The kiss had been long and soft. Peter had been gentle and told her he adored her. Two years older than her, and very popular with the girls, she knew it probably wasn't the first time Peter had brought a girl down to the lake. But she didn't care. She had wanted to be kissed by him ever since she had come to the school last year and seen him in the dining hall. She knew he had probably done the exact same thing to many girls at the school, but she didn't mind being one of them. Besides, he told her she was special. While the cold night air bit her cheeks, Peter whispered in her ear that she was the one he had been waiting for. That she made him happier than anything in his life.
Anne had smiled and felt how her cheeks blushed. Then he had told her he'd better take her back to the school before anyone found out they were gone.
Anne had sighed, a little disappointed that the night was almost over, but agreed it was for the best. On their way back through the dark forest, Peter had kept his arm around her shoulder. When they were close to the school and she could see it in the distance, he had suddenly stopped and pressed her up against a tree. He had kissed her passionately and held her head between his hands, kissing her neck and nibbling her ear, breathing into it, whispering gentle promises about their future together. Then she had felt his hand crawl up under her shirt and she had moaned between kisses.
"Please don't, Peter."
"Come on," he had whispered without stopping. His hand reached her bra and tried to crawl under it.
"I'm serious, Peter, please don't."
"I know you want to. Just as much as I do."
Then she had felt his hand on her thigh as it crawled up on the inside and reached in under the skirt of her school uniform.
"Stop!" she had said, more determined, and Peter had finally reacted. Then he laughed.
"Sorry. You're just so damn beautiful," he said and hammered his fist into the trunk of the tree behind her. "I just want you so badly."
Anne had fixed her hair and started walking. "Take me back, please."
Peter grunted, then grabbed her hand and kissed her cheek. "Thanks for not getting mad."
They had walked in silence till they reached her dormitory. Then he kissed her again.
"Let's do this again soon," he whispered and moved her hand to his crotch so she could feel him. Anne gasped and pulled her hand away.
"That’s how much I'm looking forward to it," he said and started walking backward away from her while waving and blowing finger kisses. The last she saw of him was when he turned and ran toward his own dormitory.
It was when she turned her back on him that she saw the long thin shadow on the wall creeping toward her.
Now, as she was running through the forest and the snow was getting deeper, slowing her down, Anne screamed but knew no one would hear her. When she reached the lake where she and Peter had shared their first kiss, she stopped, knowing there was nowhere to run anymore. As she sensed her follower creep closer, she took the first step onto the ice, carefully placing her foot where she thought it might be thick enough to hold her.
He won't follow me out here, she thought to herself.
Anne felt a slight hope arise inside of her while thinking that if she only stayed out there on the ice all night, then maybe, maybe her follower would go back to where he came from and leave her alone. Maybe he would give up.
As Anne felt the icy air from her follower's breath on her neck, she knew she wouldn't be so lucky. As she felt the pain in her back like sharp razor blades and she saw her own blood spurt onto the clean newly fallen snow on top of the ice, she knew there would be no more running off after lights were out, and there would be no more kisses in the dark and icy night.
Part One
Next Morning
Chapter One
Jakob Dyrberg was in his senior year when they found the girl. He was in his dorm, studying when he heard. Before his classmate sprang into the door of the study, where he was doing his homework, and told him about her, Jakob was sitting quietly, working on his paper on the French Revolution for history class. He was happy at that moment. Stressed about the paper and the upcoming exams in the spring, but happy. He was especially looking forward to the spring ball and graduation coming up. It had been a good year for him so far, even though it was only November, he could tell this year was going to be better than the previous. He was doing well in school, he had a date for the spring ball, and he was looking forward to spending a year at the business school in Switzerland that his father had paid for him to go to after he finished high school at Herlufsholm Boarding School. He knew all he wanted was to get rid of him, place him somewhere where he and his new wife didn't have to worry about him or even take care of him, and Jakob really wanted to be as far away from them as possible, so in this way it would end up as a win for them both.
His friend, Christian Bjergager, stared at him while panting. His hair was wild and unruly, his cheeks red from running. He closed the door behind him carefully to not make a sound. Talking was not allowed during study-time.
"They found someone," he whispered, agitated.
Jakob didn't even look up from his book. He was in the middle of a sentence and didn't want to lose the context. So far, he had only gotten a few lines down on his computer and he had to be done by the end of the week.
"Hmm," he said and finished the paragraph, completely oblivious to his classmate's exciting, yet disturbing news.
Christian walked to the window and looked out. Then he shivered. "Did you even hear me?"
Jakob sighed and looked up. "No, I'm in the middle of something. It's kind of important that I get this done soon.
Plus, you'll get us both in trouble by talking." Jakob paused, feeling curious after all. "What was it?"
"They found a girl," Christian said with even more tension and excitement in his voice than before.
Jakob shook his head in confusion. "They found a girl? What does that even mean? Where did they find a girl and why is it so important?"
"Down by the lake. The soccer team found her on their morning jog. She was lying on the ice, blood splattered all over the snow. Rumors say several of them threw up."
Jakob looked up. "And what about the girl? What happened to her?"
Christian shrugged. "I don't know. They say she was splattered all over the ice, man. Sounds really nasty."
"Who was she?" Jakob asked.
"Don't know yet," Christian answered while biting his lip in agitation.
"Was she someone from this school?"
"I guess so. She was wearing a uniform, they said. With the Trolle emblem, like ours have. But you haven't heard the best part yet. Get this…they also told me her head had been…ripped apart from her body, and there’s more…that her heart had been ripped out."
Jakob gulped. "But how?"
"Who knows? Someone probably stabbed her with a knife, then cut her head off and her heart out. The question everyone is asking is, where are the head and heart now?" Christian bit his lip again while staring outside toward the forest. "I haven't seen it yet. Oh, I wish I had been one of them down there. The place is probably blocked off by the police now. Why couldn't I have been the one to find her? I would have loved to see it."
Jakob stared at Christian, not sure how to react. "Why?"
Christian almost jumped with exhilaration. "Why not? Aren't you curious? Don't you want to see what it looks like? I’ve never seen a dead person before, let alone someone who has been murdered. I want to know what it looks like."
"Is that what they say it is? Murder?" Jakob asked.
Christian shrugged. "I guess. Since there was blood and all. I mean, it must have been, right?"
Jakob shrugged. "It could have been an animal?"
Christian shook his head while gazing out the window in the direction of the forest once again.
"No. It was murder. I can feel it. I can sense it."
Jakob chuckled and shook his head. "And exactly how can you sense something like that?"
Christian looked at Jakob. He threw a book at him. Jakob ducked.
"Why must you always be so damn dull? You sit in here all day and read about kings that were dead long ago, more than two hundred years ago, and here we have the most spectacular event ever happening to this old school, the most bloody scene that far surpasses anything in your history books right outside our window and you mean to tell me you're not even going to sneak down there and at least have a peek?"
Jakob shrugged. "Well, since you put it that way…then…maybe."
Christian's eyes lit up. He picked up Jakob's winter jacket from behind the door and threw it at him. "Then what are we waiting for?"
Chapter Two
"It looks like she was stabbed with a knife…several times or maybe even with several knives from behind, then fell onto the ice over here before the killer…decapitated her and…cut her heart out."
The officer by the name of Andersson from the local Naestved Police Department briefing Detective Forrest Albu was paler than the snow he pointed at. Forrest noticed the officer was sweating heavily, despite the icy wind this cold morning in November. Forrest nodded and followed him to look at the bloody tracks on the ice. He had arrived only about half an hour ago, riding there from Copenhagen on his motorcycle.
"The forensics say the stab that killed her was made right here and then she was turned around before the decapitation began and…the…"
Forrest nodded and put his hand on Officer Andersson's shoulder. "You don't have to repeat it, Officer." Forrest stared at the headless body lying on the ice in a pool of blood, painting the snow red.
"We haven't found it yet," the officer said with a sigh.
"The head?" Forrest asked and looked briefly at the sky, where a thick cloud covered the sun completely. Unlike most other people in this country, Forrest enjoyed these dark winters.
Andersson nodded. "Or the heart."
"And the uniform tells us she’s from the boarding school, right?" Forrest asked and pointed at the famous Trolle emblem on the chest of the girl's shirt underneath her jacket.
The officer nodded. Forrest rose up and looked around. The officer looked at him with great curiosity. "We've searched everywhere," he said. "Between the reeds, on the tracks all the way back to the forest, and still nothing. We might need to get the dogs out here to see if they can sniff it out."
"It is indeed a sad day," Forrest said and scanned the area while turning around on his heels. For most people, the long open leather coat wouldn’t have done much good in keeping them warm. Not in this cold. But for Forrest, it was more than enough. He didn’t feel the icy cold. He twirled a couple of times, then exclaimed: "You’ve been searching in the wrong places, my friend."
"Excuse me?"
"It's just like my mother always said," Forrest exclaimed and started walking across the ice.
"And what might that be?" Officer Andersson said, sounding confused. He tried to keep up but Forrest was walking much faster than he. The ice was slippery under Forrest's black leather shoes. It was creaking loudly under their weight and the sound made Andersson quite uncomfortable.
"If you can't find something, you've been looking in the wrong places!" Forrest exclaimed again with his finger held high. "Ever heard of hiding something in plain sight?"
Officer Andersson kept quiet while trying to keep up.
"Don't shake your head just yet, Officer Andersson," Forrest said. He approached the trees where the forest began, then started walking along the line of trees and looking up. "In a minute, you'll understand everything much better. It’s all about the eyes that see, my friend. And you haven’t been able to see the trees because of the forest."
"Isn't it the other way around?" Officer Andersson asked while hurrying along behind him. "That you can't see the forest because of all the trees?"
"Not in this case," Forrest said. He stopped and whistled. "There you go." He pointed at a branch in a tall tree. "Your head and next to it…the heart."
Officer Andersson gaped as he looked up and spotted the head that was pierced on a barren branch higher up than what seemed humanly possible.
"But…but…How?"
"Simple logic, my friend. See, the girl's head was decapitated, right?"
Officer Andersson nodded, still perplexed.
"The girl is a student at the school and when do we learn about decapitations in school?"
Andersson stared at him with the same confused look as earlier.
"In history class," Forrest answered for him. "In history class, we learn about the French Revolution, right? You know when the noblemen and royalties of France were brutally murdered by the common man to free them from the tyranny. In most cases, decapitated by the guillotine. You know that one, I assume?"
Andersson nodded. "Most certainly, but..."
"I have one name for you. Princess de Lamballe. Once I looked at the poor girl out there on the ice, I at the same time remembered one specific case during the Revolution, the story of Princess de Lamballe. Princess Therese de Lamballe was a very close friend of Queen Marie Antoinette. She was a great support to her during the early very difficult years of her marriage to King Louis the sixteenth, and she was to provide comfort in the later dark days of her life. Princess de Lamballe was beautiful and witty and as fond of gaiety and the good life as the Queen. Princess de Lamballe was turned over to an angry mob waiting with hammers, swords, and pikes in an alley. She was allegedly stabbed from behind, then they cut off her head and cut out her heart and both were mounted on pikes and paraded through the streets of Paris."
Forrest sighed and patted the officer on his shoulder. "What you have here,
my friend, is a killer who is fascinated with the French Revolution. And maybe even more than that. Maybe killings through history in general."
Chapter Three
Peter Lovenskov was standing among the many spectators that had run down to the lake to see what was going on. He was staring at the dead body that the police had pulled from the ice onto the shore, leaving a wide stripe of blood. Now they were examining her and the area where she was found. Peter tilted his head to better see. He felt an unexplainable shiver roll down his back as he saw what looked like intestines being picked up and examined by some guy in a bodysuit, probably a forensic, before it was put into a small bag and secured.
People standing in front of him were whispering. A girl suddenly broke out of the crowd and ran toward a bush where she threw up. Her friends ran after her and helped her get back through the tall trees to the school. Peter didn't spend much time looking at them; his eyes were fixated on the girl. He recognized Anne's clothing from the night before. A policeman tried to get them all to move away, but in vain. Everybody wanted to have a peek.
"Nothing to see here, go back to your dorms, please," he yelled again and again. But none of the students moved. They stared like they were paralyzed at the scene in front of them. The girl who most of them didn't know was lying in the snow, covered in blood, her head torn off, her heart ripped out. Most were disgusted but, like Peter, they were also attracted to the scene. It was like he couldn't stop looking. He compared it to a car accident where people always have to stop and look.
"Who is she?" his friend Jakob standing next to him asked.
Peter shrugged. "Never seen her before."
"But she's from the school, right?"
"I heard that her name was Anne," someone standing next to Peter suddenly said. "She was new to the school. Only been here since summer."
