“Ok...ok I understand, but I’m gonna need a name.” Sam asked.
“Karl Summers....with a K.” I answered.
“Ok I suppose this is a non-traceable phone you have, so we can’t track you.” Sam asked.
“You see Sam, we are very much the same...you know me too well and I know you so very well too. I will get back in touch in two days time...I have given you a lead and I have a trail to track, so I bid you goodbye...for now!” I replied courteously towards Sam.
The phone went dead...and Sam finished his cigarette and flicked the lowly burning embers of the remaining end into the night before him, he turned and walked into the Police Headquarters...
“We need to break free from the mundane cycle that is your shitty life...broaden our horizons and feed our lust for blood and death.” replied the second voice of Karl, who had just finished replacing the final cutting towards the shrine upon the wall.
“Back where it belongs....now lets see if we can feast upon some poor soul, my mouth is dry and I hunger for death and thirsty for blood to flow.” the dark voice from Karl replied, as Karl struggled with this dark half....but he was getting weaker and weaker by the moment...
Karl staggered towards the door to the apartment, his eyes glanced towards the nearby window and he spotted the same two policemen walking towards the reception area to his apartment...
“Mmm looks like we need to use the fire escape as those two filthy coppers are coming back.” murmured Karl to himself as he retraced his steps to the far window, that led to the fire escape on the opposite side of the building and down to the dark alley below. Karl grabbed his satchel and descended into the darkness below.....
As he descended down the fire escape, Karl looked carefully around as he skulked within the shadows. He then carefully slipped out of the alleyway and into the darkness of the night....
I arrived at my destination....a place from my memories...lost in the realms of the past. It was here at this precise spot where I lost my mind, and the ‘red mist’ came out to play. These old hands full of deep wrinkled ravines and crevasses hold the memories of the red river, the same red river of blood that flowed through my fingers as I squeezed the last fragments of her life from her body. Karl Summers would have been just about 4 years old when I killed his mother, this was the only time I ever killed in anger as all the rest either was of personal interest or deep seeded revenge...
I remember as a youth, forcing myself upon her like a rampant randy goat braying my sexual desires and grunts into her ear, as my penis flickered in and out of her tender body....she had a child but I presumed it was by the man she slept with behind my back, once bitten forever smitten it seems...
I called her and arranged to meet her in this very spot, she claimed that she no longer loved me and her new lover was everything to her...so as the red mist fell I decided to take the thing that her new man cared for so much...her life.
“Evening...it’s a slight chilly night tonight!” came the voice that broke my train of thought, it came from a thin stick of a man who was walking a Jack Russell dog upon a lead.
“Yes....chilly indeed, calls forth the chills to the bones doesn’t it?” I answered politely.
“Yet the cold chill can cleanse a man’s heavy mind and the weight that it bears.” I retorted.
“Yes indeed...I myself like to walk and clear my thoughts too, must have something to do with the calmness of the night...well it has been nice talking but I got to get this fella back home...Good evening!” replied the man as he walked away from me with the Jack Russell trotting beside him...
My train of thought continued...what if this boy was his son?
Could some of my genes have passed onto him and now he seeks to feed his hunger of revenge to bring me into his little game...yet he only knows the game but not the rules....and in this game of mine, there are none...
There I was standing alone in a world of my own, reminiscing about the past and my deeds, a brief chilly breeze trickled through me as it bought me to my senses. I had to be somewhere...and this boy would have to wait for the moment...
Sam had entered the Police Headquarters, and was walking down a long corridor with rows of doors either side. At the very end of the corridor lay the door the Records Department, and Sam took a deep heavy breath just as he reached for the handle....turning it and entered the room...
The room was a large dank affair where row upon row of shelves lay in front of Sam’s eyes, and upon these shelves lay countless folders, files, and boxes that blocked the near dim light that illuminated the room...
“Can I help you sonny?” came the voice that rippled from the shadows.
“Who’s there?” Sam replied.
“Just a lowly old record keeper...waiting for the Reaper to come for me!” replied the man who stepped from the shadows.
The man was indeed old at least in his late seventies, wearing a tweed jacket and matching trousers. His face was haggard and encrusted with deep ravines of age and wrinkles to match.
“I am need of information pertaining a young boy whose name is Karl Summers and it is Karl with a K.” Sam asked.
“Follow me and we shall see.” replied the strange man, as he started to walk down the long expansive corridor and Sam started to follow him..
They both ventured further and further down the long corridor, as the thickness of the cobwebs became more dense and darker. The boxes upon the shelves bore to a past of death murder and an assortment of other dark deeds, eventually the strange man stopped at one lowly mis-shaped box. The box was fairly dated and emblazoned with ‘Karl Summers 15/08/2006' upon it’s side, the strange man stretched and lifted the box from the shelf discarding the years of dust that lay upon the top of it.
“Here we go and it’s really lucky it’s the only Karl Summers we have.” replied the strange man.
“You can check through the box over there!” commented the strange man as he pointed to a small looking table with a lamp sitting upon it.
Sam moved towards the table as the strange man walked behind him carrying the box and placed it upon the table, the strange man retreated back into the shadows as Sam’s fingers began to tear away the tape that held the box closed tight.
The box opened to reveal a faint cloud of dust flutter into the air, Sam stopped himself from sneezing out loud. His hands entered the box to pull out a pile of documents that had that ‘encrusted old smell’ to them. Sam began to scan through the ancient and slightly fading documents.
Nothing of any particular importance...the boy moved from care home to care home, eventually his anger due to his mother’s death led him eventually to crime and the death of one of the staff at the St. Lantos Children’s Home...leading to his arrest for manslaughter which was thrown from court due to him being only a minor at the time.
The various other documents were last known addresses, it seemed this boy moved around and never stayed in the same spot, various cuttings from newspaper articles depicting his harrowing past within the homes. And the Doctor’s reports depicting a twisted soul whose darkness and hatred flowed through his body like blood through his arteries.
Sam picked up the last few documents, but it was the same thing but just a different place. The last document that was in Sam’s hands looked more fresher than the previous documents he had already examined in the box.
It was a legal document that had allowed the boy to legally change his birth name to a different one, as Sam’s eyes rolled down the sheet...his eyes widened when he saw the name upon the sheet.
“Oh my god!, this cannot be true....not you!” Sam murmured in shock as he realised the truth now...but did Hal?
He returned the documents to the box...taking a photograph on his phone of the fresher document. The box was returned to the shelf by the strange man, and Sam made his way out of the Police Department. Desperate to find Hal, but also with this new evidence stop the ‘real’ killer before the two of them meet one last time....
Chapt
er Eighteen: Putting The Pieces Into Place
My mind was buzzing as I wrote the note...
I knew all that needed to be known now and the place was set for my big finale, the last pieces were now falling into place.
But there was you....yes little old innocent you. I knew when we first met eyes upon each other, I knew something was different with you...you were different from the rest before you. So I know you will be there for the fireworks and frolics that the finale will bring..
My hands were looking wrinkled and old as I folded the note into the envelope and marked the front in black ink... ‘For the Attention of Karl Davis’.
I placed it into the letterbox outside his apartment and slipped away into the night and onwards to the next stage of my plan....
It was about a hour’s ride to Holt Road, and the place where my bloodiest murder took place...
It was so long ago, but still so fresh inside my mind like it was yesterday. The year was early 2005 and my murder tally was hitting the near sixties and I knew the police were hot on my trail....I remember Sam Mallows being the dogged Detective hunting me day and night until I was caught....those were good days and they were the best days of our relationship.
I had picked up a young girl...she must have been a mere young twenty year old back then and I was about twenty eight years old, she was feisty young thing from Lisburn, Northern Ireland and could give as good as she could take..
But I took something from her that she could never get back...her innocence.
I had bought her to the warehouse out of the way of prying eyes and away from earshot of passerby interrupting me in my work. She thought she was getting her end away...but in reality all that was being took was her life by my hands.
She had begun to nibble upon my ear like a fragile rabbit nibbling at lettuce, and her hands had begun to explore beneath my clothing, as her kisses met mine...I found myself reaching behind her back as my fingers traced upwards beneath her blouse towards her bra, my fingers foolishly fumbling at the strap until after a brief moment the explosive release of her ample breasts flumped against my own body.
My hands pulled the loose bra from her blouse as she kissed me passionately upon my lips, as I began to twist the bra into a garotte for her pretty young neck. No sooner had she finished kissing me, I twisted the bra viscously around her neck...squeezing it tighter and tighter as she squealed for her life and for a breath.
After a moment she had begun to faint and fell to my feet, and that is when I pulled out my knife, and the real games began...
I slowly cut the clothes from her body, and then began to slice her pretty young soft throat as the blood began to spill from it. The red river soaked deep into the crumbly stone ground beneath my feet and her blood soaked body...
But then the desire of youth overtook me as I stabbed her multiple times in and out...in and out...in and out. There were so many insertions in her body...the blood just pissed from every and each hole I had made. I stood watching the ripples of blood trickle through each and every nook and cranny of the loose stone ground as the soulless eyes of the Irish beauty stared stone cold out towards the shadows of the night...
The visions of the past disappeared and the only thing that remained in the warehouse was myself....apart from the ghosts that still lingered in some of the darker corners. The warehouse was much colder than it had been before, and was derelict awaiting to be demolished for new housing to replace it.
The whole place had been filled with mild explosives to cascade the walls in...causing minor damage allowing easier removal of rubble once detonated. But tonight I would add some extra explosives for a farewell to remember..
I dragged the four hard plastic chairs to the main room and placed a small crate in between the chairs and upon the crate I placed a large white candle and lit it, so the dim candlelight lit up most of the room...
The setting was set and now all I needed was the players for the final act to take place....
Michelle had just arrived back to her apartment, and noticed the single red rose upon her doorstep. A note was attached to the stem, written upon expensive parchment all it said was ‘I know Everything....Hal’.
Michelle entered the apartment and noticed the disturbed files and reports on the desk, then her eyes glanced towards the safe...the picture had been disturbed and she rushed to the safe hidden behind the picture...
The safe had been opened.....
Her secrets had been found out....and by the one person she didn’t want to know until the very last moment. The rules of the game had changed and now were in the hands of The Dark Poet.
She began to worry and then everything stopped dead...she knew in the end there was only one way to finish this, to end this all...
She began to search through her drawers on her desk, chucking files and documents to the floor, as from the drawers she pulled out a revolver. She loaded it and placed it in the pocket of her coat and walked to the door of her apartment.
She stopped looking around the apartment and realised she may not return...turned and walked out of the apartment, got into her car and started to drive...
I stood quietly contemplating the events of tonight and the finale to come, the snap of a cold breeze drifted through the dark corridor as I looked upon the room where secrets will be unveiled and revealed....
“This is a deadly game that you play Hal...what do you expect from all this bravado and illusion?” came Sam’s voice as he stepped from the shadows.
“My dear old friend...what you see will be the beginning and the ending of this charade and the world will be balanced once more...” I replied.
“Now I believe you need to play your part....I believe a phone call to our friend Patrick is in order.” I commented.
Sam sighed reluctantly as he began to dial the number upon his phone, and waited as the call began to ring....
Chapter Nineteen: This Little Piggy...
Pat sat at the bar drinking one last whisky before he retired to his bed, all of a sudden the phone began ringing like a madman whimpering in the corner. The drink was telling him that the bed was waiting for him, but his head was saying ‘answer the damn phone!’ and so he stumbled towards the phone, juggling it in a drunken stupor before answering it...
“Hello...who is this?” asked Pat.
“Pat....it’s me Sam!, we need to meet.....I know who has been killing these people..” replied Sam Mallows on the other end of the phone.
“We need to meet up....we can end this now before it escalates or before Hal finds out the truth and nab them both.” Sam explained.
“Ok, where shall we meet?” Pat asked calmly.
“The old warehouse on Holt Road...the scene of Hal’s most bloodiest crime...I know he will be there as he relishes the past like some fine wine, he savours the taste and elegance of his crimes.” replied Sam.
“Ok....ok, I will be there, should I bring back-up?” asked Patrick.
“Yeah...we gonna need a few men to take down Hal.” replied Sam.
“Is he that dangerous?” retorted Patrick.
“Maybe....but also very unpredictable!” answered Sam.
“See you soon!” spoke Sam as he put the phone down.
Patrick stood for a moment....his mind was thinking at a thousand miles per hour, and that one dark thought entered his mind. A mere seed to begin but now the roots were sprouting and now the voices were flowering in his mind...
“Yeah....get the back-up but you could get the credit for taking down the Dark Poet yourself....yes, this will be my golden ticket!” the voices inside Patrick’s head murmured as he reached for his coat and walked out into the night, with nothing but a loaded gun with a bullet with the Dark Poet’s name upon it.
Sam had only just put the phone down, and let out a deep sigh....
“Do you think he bought it?” I replied who was standing next to Sam.
“I don’t know.....but what I do know is that he will be coming to the warehouse arme
d to the teeth and wanting to take you down before the back-up arrives.” replied Sam towards Hal
“Relax our game is nearly at an end....we just need our other guest and this can all be resolved.” I explained as he took a deep intake of the night air in through his nostrils...
“Ah there is nothing quite like the sweet smell of the night!” I replied.
“It’s sweet nectar brings such sweetness to such a bitter aftertaste left by the day.” I explained.
“You listening to them voices in your head again Hal?” Sam replied.
“We all have voices inside of us....every moment and every choice is made by a voice inside our heads or our hearts...but no this came from no voices in my head. Life is a matter of good and bad and that’s all people matter about...nobody cares about the stuff in between the good and the bad, these lost souls are what drives the balance of society either to the left or the right.” I replied..
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