When I arrived home I read a bit and then opened my mail. Mark had sent me an e-mail in which he apologized for having to rush off after class and stated that he really enjoyed the weekend, and was looking forward to more activities together. I tried to think of a way to write him back, and I did plan on writing him back that evening, but all the sudden I thought back to Nicole’s story. I decided to have some internet fun and explore—just for fun of course, not really, perhaps, expecting to find anything. Then again what if?
“Let’s see…” I thought out loud, “...Mark was originally teaching in Tacoma…moving a while after his marriage ended.” I continued my searches, again talking to myself, “What news events were taking place around the time Nicole was describing in her strange little story?” I did not find much and wondered why I was wasting time with this. Just before giving up on the search engines for newspapers from the region, I became convinced Nicole merely had a morbid sense of humor. I did a bit of homework and then compiled a really nice letter to Mark. It felt like I was rambling on, certainly not characteristic of my writing style, but oh well.
The next day, in Miss Green’s class, of all places, we were reading up on current issues for a discussion, and I found an article that caught my eye “Privacy Worries in the Age of the Internet”.”I started reading and a section on public records seemed to jump out at me. One could get records about criminal proceedings, civil punishments, and even transcribed divorce cases. My curiosity was peaked again, so I resumed my search when nobody was around me.
When I looked up Mark’s name a case did appear from several years ago. I thought about reading it but then I noticed the name of his ex-wife’s lawyer “Leon Myers”. At that point I decided to type in Myers’ name in the searches and then, perhaps not totally shocking but certainly surprising, I found an article in a Tacoma newspaper about a missing person with the same name.
The story was short and dealt with a search on the Washington coast for a 52 year old man. His car was found but no signs of foul play, so searchers were concentrating on finding a body in the rough seas in the area. It was strange but I couldn’t find any other articles. Of course, not every story from local newspapers is put on the internet—or maybe missing persons stories which appear to be accidents deaths just do not get as much coverage. Maybe when authorities decide to declare a person dead, assuming they never find a body, that is not a big news story—or maybe he didn’t have a family so the human interest aspect did not warrant much attention, who knows?
Of course the news article had caused my heart rate to rush. I almost blurted out “Could it actually be true?” I wondered, were my closest friends, one of my teachers for Heaven’s sake, killers after all? I sat there thinking and noticed Nicole had returned and was sitting on the couch reading. I looked over at her and tried to remain calm. I could not be sure the story she told me was true, but now it seemed plausible. She asked what was up and I said nothing—the idea that this young woman I had spent so much time with might be capable of murder was very strange, but what caused me the most questions was how I was not repulsed by the idea if it were true. In fact, it added a strange dimension to the picture of my friend. I wanted to talk with her about my discovery, but chose not to—in fact, I felt like a little girl who had discovered a secret but couldn’t even tell the people who knew that I knew it. It was exciting yet at the same time I realized if it were not true then I would look like an idiot. What to do?
I skipped lunch that day and tried to find more information—but nothing showed up. I decided to skip history, instead going to Mark’s classroom and claiming I was doing research. When I saw he was not busy I asked him if I could borrow one of his psychology books. He was okay with it, and said I could sit at his desk if I wanted during his presentation. I sat, opened the book, and I pretended to be reading but instead I couldn’t get the fantasies out of my mind—fantasies based on Nicole’s story. I then started listening to his lecture, well, not really listening but trying to analyze him. I then became aware of thoughts that only now seemed to surface—I guess these thoughts required the right catalyst.
While he was speaking I could not help but feel a dangerous attraction—not only to what could be a shadow side of his personality, but also an attraction at another level…taboo feelings, infatuation…maybe even…no, I tried to hide that even from myself. Yet Nicole’s comments the other day made me wonder if others could notice emotions developing even as I did my best to repress them from myself. I was unsure exactly what was going on inside of me, and tried to pin them down and explain the “feelings” rationally but to no avail. Instead, I let my mind become occupied with other thoughts, more of a practical approach to the situation I found myself in.
I wondered if my secret knowledge of what I believed was probably true could be a type of power over him. Not blackmail really, but perhaps the means to get into his life without him being able to say no. Then a thought that was both exciting as well as terrifying came into my mind—what if Mark, Nicole and Daniel would see me as a threat and actually find some cave to bury me alive in it? I realized at this point, with Nicole’s sharing the information as well as my confirmation of at least a part of what could be the truth, there was really no turning back. It seemed like at some level I would soon get entangled in their activities, or maybe would wind up like the lawyer guy.
What would my future be? Did Mark know what Nicole told me? Was there a possibility that Mark and I might have some sort of future? If this were to happen it would certainly not be anything I had ever dreamed of, or was it? Then again, having friends who were killers was certainly out of bounds, so anything was possible at this point. I realized that the only way to find out anything was to get the process going now.
After his class I waited until everyone had left. I went up to Mark and of all things asked him to sign a note that I had to research this period so I could get the absence from Lamb’s class excused. He asked how I was doing and signed the note without hesitation. He then asked, “Melanie, we have not really talked since this weekend. Is everything okay?” I told him that I had just been busy researching. He gave me an understanding look and said, “That’s okay. Just out of curiosity, how did you like the lesson I gave to the sophomores today?” I was embarrassed to respond, “I, uh, don’t know…I’m kind of lost in thoughts right now, and so I didn’t really pay attention.”
He said that was okay but I could tell he was a little disappointed, maybe feeling a bit ignored by me of all people. “Well, sorry for being so boring today.” He said that in a humorous manner so I smiled and then decided to ask him what at the time was quite awkward, “It’s not that…just, well, what if you discovered something about someone who you really liked, but the thing you discovered was really socially unacceptable—yet after discovering it you realized you liked the person even more?” I thought to myself that was really not much of a profound question. Mark seemed to think for a moment and then asked, “Well, in a way it would depend on what you discovered—I mean, is the person working with a drug cartel or do they secretly watch chick flicks?” I normally would have laughed but just stared at him blankly. “Sorry about that, have you really been hurt by something someone has done?” he asked.
At this point I wondered if he knew what Nicole had told me and was he merely toying with my mind? That would not be appreciated. On the other hand, if he was unaware what she had done, and the story was true, then I knew something about him that he was not aware I knew.
Maybe I had said more than I wanted if he did realize what I was talking about since I admitted I liked the person even more now that I knew their dark secret. Yet did he know? As smart as he was he should suspect I would find out, and maybe now he knew how I felt as well. I thought maybe if an almost 18 year old high school girl could come to an emotional realization then a teacher, educated in psychology, should know by now, shouldn’t he? This was driving me crazy—I could not even frame questions in my mind properly.
I co
uld only respond in a frustrated manner, “Mark, I cannot talk about it now, can I meet with you after school at the park down the street from your house?” He asked if five was a good time and I let him know it was.
I drove over to the park before five and just sat there waiting and wondering how in the world I would ask my teacher, my friend, my…well, how do you ask someone if they have ever tortured someone to death? Beyond that, if Nicole was telling me the honest truth, how could I continue hanging out with them? Thinking about it, I should have been a bit more careful, I mean, if I was in a social circle of killers then it was a bit dangerous. Oh well, Nicole seemed to trust me so I guess I should trust that I was not going to be done in.
Mark arrived a few minutes later. I thought to myself that if anyone saw us they might think something else was going on but little would they know.
I waved, “Hi Mark!” By now I had gathered myself together enough to make it a warm greeting. “Hey Melanie, glad to see you made it. What’s up?” Well, how does one go about saying it? I just had to know though.
I started, “Mark, Nicole told me a story the other day, a story about a man who put a really bad guy into a cave with some rats and left him to die—do you have any knowledge of such a thing?” Mark sort of froze, looked away, and then asked what I thought of the story. I said that if someone did that, they certainly were creative, and gave a little smile. He must have seen into my mind at that point. He looked down at the ground and asked, “Do you believe that some people deserve to have something like that happen to them?” I didn’t even have to think to answer, “Sure I do. We’ve talked about this before and I can easily see why someone could be driven to revenge.” He showed little emotion as I looked at him. He then asked, “What would you say if I told you that what Nicole said to you was just a story—I mean, is there a part of you that would be relieved, or would you instead be disappointed?”
Now that was an interesting way to put it. I then admitted to him honestly, “Mark, I, well…okay, yeah it would be a little less complicated but…if true I must admit I would find it dangerous and exciting!” Then I asked right out, with the assumption it was all true, “Are you guys involved in a serial killing spree? Are you the ones responsible for all the killings that have been reported on the news?” I had to ask even though Nicole had said these killings were not their doing—I guess I just had to hear it from him. Mark quickly responded, “No, none of the victims you have heard about in the news—they are innocent from what I understand—the people we have been involved with deserved their punishment! Besides, the ones we took care of would never be found by the police, unless we wanted them to be.” I responded, “Never been found?” Mark then, as was typical of him, began to elaborate, “No, I realize typically those involved in such activities—at least the ones caught—like to play with authorities by giving a few clues and then laugh as police as aren’t able to piece together the case and find them. Then they get sloppy and get caught. Generally you will find serial killers…” At this point I knew I had to interrupt him.
“Mark, this isn’t the time for a lecture—now please, tell me it’s either true or this is some sick prank you have all set up to screw around with my head.” Mark took a moment and then said, “I knew Nicole was anxious to introduce you to this, but I have to admit that I had mixed emotions—you seemed like someone who would fit nicely into our group, and Nicole insisted that you would be perfect, but then you do have an innocence about you that I was hesitant to violate. However, we finally came to a consensus that we would invite you in.” I responded, “It seems like you were taking an awful risk. I mean we’ve only known each other little over a month—how did you know I wouldn’t go to the police?”
“Melanie, first, like I’ve said, there is no evidence we’ve ever done anything since we have covered our tracks really well. Also, we do have a reputation for joking around about this topic a lot, so if you did go to the police we could merely say this was just another twisted psychological prank. The joking is a great cover since nobody expects you are really doing it.” I responded, “I guess it’s like being noisy and having parties—nobody expects you are burying bodies in your basement” Mark laughed, “Yeah, it’s always a quiet guy who never bothered his neighbors.”
“So why did you tell me? Do you really want me to join your group? Do I come across as someone with the mind of a killer?” Mark seemed to want to assure me at this time, “Well, I am pretty analytical and I hope you take this the right way but I’d say yes to all your questions.” Wow, that caught me a bit off guard. I was puzzled and had to ask, “Well, why? I mean, sure I make comments about weeding out the undesirables and all but I suppose other people do too.” Mark sat down and replied, “Well, I don’t know those other people. I guess I thought you might like to take a more direct approach on making society a better place and, you know, Nicole and Daniel got the same vibes from you.”
I re-appraised the situation momentarily in my mind—it occurred to me this could still be an elaborate joke—maybe the lawyer guy just happened to die in an accident and Nicole knew I would look into this and find the story. Maybe they were listening to this conversation on their cell phones and just dying in laughter. I was determined to find out the truth. “Okay, so you really did feed this guy to some rats—do you have any proof?” Then Mark, either acting or displaying genuine amusement answered me, “Not that I could convince you of right now. I mean I do have a map with the location marked on it.”
I continued, “So when you guys joke about your activities…they aren’t really jokes?” Mark then claimed, “Sometimes they are indeed jokes but at other times they are real. Often they are composites of both actual events and things we interject into the story and then again…” I interrupted, “Okay, okay, so how many are we talking about together—not including ‘Mr. Lawyer’ since that would have been a solo operation?”
Mark took only a moment and said, “Without the lawyer? The number would be eleven at this point.” Now that was interesting. The only thing that was going through my mind now was that eleven would certainly qualify as a serial murdering spree. Now the lawyer was something I could easily comprehend—after all, someone ripping away the things that gave your life meaning and all but I wondered about the others, “So what kind of people have you guys picked as targets?” Mark explained, “The kind of people who no self-respecting society should tolerate, the kinds that in times past would have been erased due to their actions that cause hurt and pain.” Thinking for a moment I asked, “So you would call yourself a missionary killer, a type of vigilante?” Mark answered, “In a manner of speaking, yes!” Then he just sat there staring out into space, and when I took a little longer to respond than usual he turned his head down and said, “I suppose you hate me now—I shouldn’t have said anything I guess...you may…I don’t know…” I stopped him there to ease his apparent uncomfortable feelings, “If what you are saying is true, and this isn’t some elaborate joke, then please, don’t count me out. I guess I just need to get used to this whole idea—perhaps you really did read me right.”
Mark then seemed more energized and hopeful I guess. He seemed to really like it when I said, “Look, you have to understand that nothing changes between us, just, well, this does add a new aspect to our relationship, doesn’t it?” He agreed—yet his only response was to then say he’d try to fill me in on everything in such a way as to insure I was not going to feel really uncomfortable, and that I would have the choice to participate or not. I would be free to choose no matter what, he insisted.
I was not really listening much at this point. I had to question just how analytical he was. Did he detect my subtle comment about “relationships” …an intentional word to see if he would respond? Did he detect my attraction? I felt in a way that if he did not that made my position somewhat stronger, yet what if he did and was intentionally ignoring, or worse yet avoiding, the possibility? I felt scared if he could see into me, yet I expected him to be able to do so.
I was obviously confused about what direction my life would take now. I did not want to find out this was all a joke, yet if true it actually gave our group a special purpose, a special bond. I even thought that I felt a bit left out since I had not been involved with the activities. I had to admit to myself the desire to capture that moment of awareness, and then take it to the next level—maybe that would lead to an even more special sense of enlightenment and connection. To take that step though…what would it be like? I mean, it might be easy to envision the taking of a life in your head but to actually do it! And then it struck me like a load of bricks—while I never had even encountered a person that was a criminal in the strict sense, I might be hanging out with people who had violently taken lives on many occasions. Yet this did not cause me fear but rather curiosity. I wondered what was it like for them to do it?
While deep in these thoughts I again became aware of Mark’s speaking when he put his hand on my arm and asked, “So what now Melanie?” Wow, it seemed really awkward to say something like “Sure, I’ll join!” and then go home. Yet at that moment Nicole called Mark and then he gave the phone to me. She asked if I wanted to hang out that night and I most certainly did. I texted my mom and let her know that I would be spending the night at Nichole’s house. After giving Mark back his phone I told him I was going to Nicole’s and he thought it was a wonderful idea. I could tell he was looking for that right thing to say when ending an incredibly profound, or what some would call traumatic conversation, so I made it easy and gave him a hug and thanked him for his trust. He seemed happy, and he promised to get everyone together really soon. I watched him get in his car and I waved before getting in mine and driving to Nicole’s. I had so many thoughts running through my mind that I could not wait to get to see her.
She met me outside of her house and we drove off to a nearby park overlooking the city to view the sunset. She had not mentioned the obvious questions on my mind even though I knew she was aware of what Mark and I had talked about. So I asked her bluntly, “Okay, I have to know, are you all playing around with me or is it all true?” Nicole laughed and asked, “Do you want it to be true? I mean…” I demanded an answer, “Enough is enough of the psychology play—I want to know!” She looked at me and with a slight grin she asked, “Would you feel safe if you knew you were sitting next to the executioner Daniel showed you on the internet?” I replied, “Yeah, I suppose. I mean he wasn’t hurting innocent people.” Nicole then got a bigger, impish smile and reached out to play with my hair. “Well that’s good because neither would I—and neither would Daniel or Mark. And none of us would harm even a single thread of that beautiful auburn hair of yours.”
Melanie's Journey Page 12
