The night was chilled with autumn air. It was a nightly hour. Diana zipped up her black sweatshirt and flipped her hood up. Her dark hair cut to her neck hung in her face as she passed the local Laundromat. She looked up at one of the windows on the second floor and saw a light flicker off. She continued down the pathway. Behind her, she heard the sound of a door opening and someone stepping out of the Laundromat. She didn’t glance over her shoulder. Instead, quiet Diana continued to walk down the sidewalk, hands in pockets.
He caught sight of her.
She slid her hands out of her pockets and put her hands under her armpits for warmth. “It might be…” she said out loud, “but it sure is cold.” A darkly painted fingernail scratched her forehead. Her converse dragged against the pavement.
She was young. Sixteen, maybe less.
Diana listened to a car pass her on the street. She jumped when she saw it was a cab. Yet, then she eased at the thought that he was out. Why she felt safe with this murder on the loose is beyond me.
A hand. Firm yet soft.
A hand grabbed hold of Diana’s shoulder. It spun her around and forced her up against the side of this apartment building she happened to be walking in front of. Her hood slid off and you could clearly see her face.
“Why are you a follower of MAX?”
“What? Who are you? What are you doing?”
“Answer the question.”
“You answer mine!”
“I’m not afraid to threaten you. I’m not going to ask again.”
Diana paused. “He knows who to kill and who not to kill.”
“Do you think that you’re someone he should kill?”
“Who says it’s a he?” Diana knew she got this guy. She just found out information she wasn’t supposed to know… and this guy knew it.
He put both hands on her shoulders. “Listen here, and listen good. Thousands of people are following MAX and his quest to kill. All I want to know is why.”
“Why because you think everyone is sick and twisted for believing in him. Yeah, I know. I’ve heard it all before. You’re just another one of those people that just don’t understand what he’s thinking. But I do. He is trying to be a hero. He is saving millions of people at the cost of a few hundred criminals.”
He was silent. He didn’t speak right away. He watched Diana intently before answering. “It’s not justice, you know. He can get killed himself for what he is doing. Even if it is helping others, killing isn’t right.”
“It is if it’s the right people.”
Is this the kind of idea people are getting? “Your wrong,” he said. “You don’t have a clue. So, stop talking like you do.”
“Whatever, now who exactly are you? Can you let me go, now? I really don’t feel like calling the police and dealing with them right now.”
He lowered his hands. “Hmm… pity.” His eyes drifted down the sidewalk. “Still, thank you for the information.”
Diana stared at the guy curiously. He seems young, but he talks like he’s freaking fifty. “Well, it was no big deal. Um… have a nice night.” With that, Diana continued to walk home blissfully unaware of who she just spoke with.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Working
Headquarters.
It wasn’t exactly fancy or large, but it was secret. Not a single soul outside of the investigation team knows where it is.
You want to know? Don’t think I would give it away that easily.
Devon made him way of the narrow staircase. The sound of everyone’s voices came through the walls. He’ll need to do something about that. He knocked twice, paused, and then knocked once. The door immediately opened. “Look who decided to show up everybody!” Andrew wrapped his arm around Devon’s neck and slammed the door shut with his foot. “Missed you buddy!” Andrew messed up Devon’s hair and began to laugh.
“Aw, geez! Andy!”
“What’d you call me?” Devon laughed as him and Andrew wrestled. They fell to the floor with a bang and the legs on the large table in the center of the room shook.
“Come on, guys! Seriously? How old are you?” Andrew and Devon both looked up to find a young looking girl standing over them, her arms crossed.
Andrew stood. “Oh, lighten up, Demi. Drake’s not even here yet. It’s not like we were in the middle of a briefing.” She stuck her tongue out at him. Devon watched from the floor as Andrew and Demi walked over to the table. Her hands spread out on the table as if to be reading something when her eyes shifted.
“Don’t you think you should get up?”
“Right… sorry.”
Devon stood and joined them at the table. The sound of flushing came from behind them. Andrew turned around while Demi and Devon stared intently at the papers on the table. Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open banging against the paint-faded wall. “Trust me, no one wants to go in there for awhile!” Andrew cackled and went to go slap Chris on the back.
“I taught you well!” The two obnoxious boys only proceeded to get louder once there was a noisy rapping on the door. Devon tensed.
“Knock, knock!” Drake announced as he walked in.
“Whoa there, did somebody order an aftershave?” Chris teased pointing out the cuts scattered around Drake’s chin.
“Shut up! I was running late this morning!”
“Well you are late.” The three of them turned and looked at Demi glaring and Devon staring hard at the papers. “Let’s get a little serious here – ”
“There!” Devon’s suddenness startled Demi. She spun around so fast, her hair whipped Devon in the back of the head.
“What? What is it?”
“Look here at this picture.” Devon held up a newspaper article with a far away shot of someone wearing a long coat, hat, and gloves. At first, Demi didn’t understand what he was talking about. She looked at the picture trying to see whatever it was Devon was seeing. “Now look at this.” He quickly slid over another picture that was on the table. It was a picture of the same person. Chris, Andrew, and Drake gathered around them and began looking at the two pictures.
“So it’s the same guy. Maybe that’s why the headline is Mass Murder Strikes Again,” Drake said sarcastically. Andrew nudged him with his elbow as Demi rolled her eyes.
“No look,” Devon suddenly catching on. “The cab on the corner.” Devon pointed to one of the pictures. “The cab here, it’s the same as the one here,” he said pulling another picture closer to him.
“All cabs look the same,” Chris said.
“No look at the license plate, IK – LD – M. It’s the same one on this cab in this shot.” Devon slid the pictures to Demi and watched her examine it. She then looked at Devon intently. He nodded once.
“Well… what if we… read it?” she mouthed slowly.
“Let me see.” Devon took the papers back and read the license plate out loud as if it were a word. “Ick ild em… I kild em… I killed them.”
“Oh, well that’s nice,” Andrew said as he sat down in the armchair in the corner. Demi walked over with the papers and sat on Andrew’s lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she continued to read the pictures. Demi took a quick glance around the room. Her eyes paused on Devon. “You wearing new perfume?”
“Yes, you don’t like it?”
“No, I do. It smells like apples.”
“Thank you.”
After a few moments of silence, Devon walked over to one of the five computers sitting on the long desk against the back wall. “I’m going to see if I can track this cab. What was it again? IK – LD – M?” He typed in MAX the Mass Murder into the search box.
“Yeah, that’s it.” Chris walked over to the mini fridge and got out a water bottle.
“Toss me one,” Devon heard Drake say. He clicked on the first link on the right of the screen, Followers: 436,089. Devon clicked on it and read some names.
Trenton Fisher.
Greg Harnage.
Jessica Ernest.
Diana Woods
Tim Ternan.
Olivia Camporelli
Nicole Miller
“Nicole…?” He clicked it. The link led him to a profile page designed by Nicole. At the top it said, Nicole Miller is a Follower of MAX. Devon did not like the idea of his own sister following this MAX online, much less putting her full name on the Internet. That was really dumb of her, dumb of all these people. Now the murder knows their real names.
Devon clicked back and then hit Diana Woods. The profile came up. There was a picture in the top left corner, just like there was one of his sister. There was a pale skinned girl with dark hair that came just above her shoulders. Her make-up wasn’t heavy, yet not exactly natural either. There was something that caught his eye. At the bottom of the profile, it said, “What would you like to say to the world at this very moment?” Devon scrolled down to see Diana’s response. “MAX makes me feel safe to walk the streets at night.” The last update was on November 2 at 11:57 p.m.
“That’s ridiculous…” Devon clicked the back button and clicked on Tim Ternan.
“Who’s Tim Ternan?” Devon whipped his head around to see Drake looking over his shoulder sipping his water.
“Oh, nobody. Just someone I thought I knew.”
Devon hit the X in the top right corner and closed out of the website. He turned around in his chair to see what was going on behind him. Chris was staring at another computer screen farther down the long row of monitors. Andrew was still sitting in the armchair with Demi on his lap; she was looking at Devon strangely. Her eyes then shifted to Chris. Her eyes portrayed her thoughts clearly and Devon understood every last bit. The two of them have always had a similar thought process. It was hard to believe that Nicole was actually his sister and not Demi. However, maybe Devon preferred it that way.
It wasn’t exactly fancy or large, but it was secret. Not a single soul outside of the investigation team knows where it is.
You want to know? Don’t think I would give it away that easily.
Devon made him way of the narrow staircase. The sound of everyone’s voices came through the walls. He’ll need to do something about that. He knocked twice, paused, and then knocked once. The door immediately opened. “Look who decided to show up everybody!” Andrew wrapped his arm around Devon’s neck and slammed the door shut with his foot. “Missed you buddy!” Andrew messed up Devon’s hair and began to laugh.
“Aw, geez! Andy!”
“What’d you call me?” Devon laughed as him and Andrew wrestled. They fell to the floor with a bang and the legs on the large table in the center of the room shook.
“Come on, guys! Seriously? How old are you?” Andrew and Devon both looked up to find a young looking girl standing over them, her arms crossed.
Andrew stood. “Oh, lighten up, Demi. Drake’s not even here yet. It’s not like we were in the middle of a briefing.” She stuck her tongue out at him. Devon watched from the floor as Andrew and Demi walked over to the table. Her hands spread out on the table as if to be reading something when her eyes shifted.
“Don’t you think you should get up?”
“Right… sorry.”
Devon stood and joined them at the table. The sound of flushing came from behind them. Andrew turned around while Demi and Devon stared intently at the papers on the table. Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open banging against the paint-faded wall. “Trust me, no one wants to go in there for awhile!” Andrew cackled and went to go slap Chris on the back.
“I taught you well!” The two obnoxious boys only proceeded to get louder once there was a noisy rapping on the door. Devon tensed.
“Knock, knock!” Drake announced as he walked in.
“Whoa there, did somebody order an aftershave?” Chris teased pointing out the cuts scattered around Drake’s chin.
“Shut up! I was running late this morning!”
“Well you are late.” The three of them turned and looked at Demi glaring and Devon staring hard at the papers. “Let’s get a little serious here – ”
“There!” Devon’s suddenness startled Demi. She spun around so fast, her hair whipped Devon in the back of the head.
“What? What is it?”
“Look here at this picture.” Devon held up a newspaper article with a far away shot of someone wearing a long coat, hat, and gloves. At first, Demi didn’t understand what he was talking about. She looked at the picture trying to see whatever it was Devon was seeing. “Now look at this.” He quickly slid over another picture that was on the table. It was a picture of the same person. Chris, Andrew, and Drake gathered around them and began looking at the two pictures.
“So it’s the same guy. Maybe that’s why the headline is Mass Murder Strikes Again,” Drake said sarcastically. Andrew nudged him with his elbow as Demi rolled her eyes.
“No look,” Devon suddenly catching on. “The cab on the corner.” Devon pointed to one of the pictures. “The cab here, it’s the same as the one here,” he said pulling another picture closer to him.
“All cabs look the same,” Chris said.
“No look at the license plate, IK – LD – M. It’s the same one on this cab in this shot.” Devon slid the pictures to Demi and watched her examine it. She then looked at Devon intently. He nodded once.
“Well… what if we… read it?” she mouthed slowly.
“Let me see.” Devon took the papers back and read the license plate out loud as if it were a word. “Ick ild em… I kild em… I killed them.”
“Oh, well that’s nice,” Andrew said as he sat down in the armchair in the corner. Demi walked over with the papers and sat on Andrew’s lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she continued to read the pictures. Demi took a quick glance around the room. Her eyes paused on Devon. “You wearing new perfume?”
“Yes, you don’t like it?”
“No, I do. It smells like apples.”
“Thank you.”
After a few moments of silence, Devon walked over to one of the five computers sitting on the long desk against the back wall. “I’m going to see if I can track this cab. What was it again? IK – LD – M?” He typed in MAX the Mass Murder into the search box.
“Yeah, that’s it.” Chris walked over to the mini fridge and got out a water bottle.
“Toss me one,” Devon heard Drake say. He clicked on the first link on the right of the screen, Followers: 436,089. Devon clicked on it and read some names.
Trenton Fisher.
Greg Harnage.
Jessica Ernest.
Diana Woods
Tim Ternan.
Olivia Camporelli
Nicole Miller
“Nicole…?” He clicked it. The link led him to a profile page designed by Nicole. At the top it said, Nicole Miller is a Follower of MAX. Devon did not like the idea of his own sister following this MAX online, much less putting her full name on the Internet. That was really dumb of her, dumb of all these people. Now the murder knows their real names.
Devon clicked back and then hit Diana Woods. The profile came up. There was a picture in the top left corner, just like there was one of his sister. There was a pale skinned girl with dark hair that came just above her shoulders. Her make-up wasn’t heavy, yet not exactly natural either. There was something that caught his eye. At the bottom of the profile, it said, “What would you like to say to the world at this very moment?” Devon scrolled down to see Diana’s response. “MAX makes me feel safe to walk the streets at night.” The last update was on November 2 at 11:57 p.m.
“That’s ridiculous…” Devon clicked the back button and clicked on Tim Ternan.
“Who’s Tim Ternan?” Devon whipped his head around to see Drake looking over his shoulder sipping his water.
“Oh, nobody. Just someone I thought I knew.”
Devon hit the X in the top right corner and closed out of the website. He turned around in his chair to see what was going on behind him. Chris was staring at another computer screen farther down the long row of monitors. Andrew was still sitting in the armchair with Demi on his lap; she was looking at Devon strangely. Her eyes then shifted to Chris. Her eyes portrayed her thoughts clearly and Devon understood every last bit. The two of them have always had a similar thought process. It was hard to believe that Nicole was actually his sister and not Demi. However, maybe Devon preferred it that way.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
MAX
The morning air was like frost against Devon’s skin as he walked down the sidewalk. He cupped his hands around his warm coffee, taking a sip every few steps. It was the first Monday in November. The city now roaring with life, it seemed to be a typical day. Devon continued down the street, his thoughts racing. I didn’t get a chance to print out those documents last night. Drake’s probably going to go on his usual rant. I wonder if he’s even awake yet. Devon reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He dialed out the number he remembered by heart and pressed the phone to his ear.
Ring… ring… ring…
“Hello?” a tiresome voice said on the other end. I just woke him up.
“Drake, where are you right now?” Devon proceeded down the sidewalk when something caught his eye.
There was a yawn on the other line. “In bed… what do you want?” Devon didn’t answer right away. He stared bewilderedly ahead of him. “Hello? Dev?”
“Drake, it’s Monday,” Devon answered still in his trance.
“No it ain’t…”
“Yes it is! Get your butt to headquarters now!”
“Ugh… you’re shitting me right?”
“Drake, get up! You’re late already.”
“Five more minutes, Mom…” Devon heard a yawn.
“Get your butt out of bed now! And would it kill you to not swear every other sentence!”
“Gee wiz!” Drake laughed. Devon wanted to smack him through the phone. “I’m not Nicole!” He rolled his eyes as he thought of his sister.
“You wish.”
“Like hell I do!” They both laughed. Devon’s older sister only by about two years or so has Drake in the palm of her hand. “All right man, I’m coming.”
Devon squeezed the empty coffee cup in his hand. “Good.”
“See you in a – ”
Devon hung up the phone and placed it in his pocket. Faintly, he could hear the man on the screen through the glass. He tossed his coffee cup into the trash and approached Pete’s Home Appliances. In the display window were several working TVs, all playing the same channel, the six o’ clock news on channel twelve.
“… killings throughout the city. Will these murderous actions of x amount of people ever come to an end?
“Well, folks, this unknown killer strikes again. Last night at one fifty-eight downtown, notorious robber, Jacob Feinstein, robbed a local convenient store. Police were in pursuit as soon as the alarm sounded. They caught sight of Feinstein just as he rounded a corner. Once our officers turned that same corner, he was nowhere to be seen. However, after several blocks, they had turned around. While cruising up the road, they spotted someone walking out of an alley. Just as they were about to question this person, they spotted Jacob Feinstein on the ground stabbed through the heart.”
The sudden vibration made Devon jump. “Geez…” he sighed and reached into his pocket. “Hello?”
“Devon, where are you? Everyone is here.”
He looked at his watch. “Sorry, I got a little sidetracked.” There was a long pause on the other end before she answered him.
“… murder from last night was most likely the same…”
“Did you wake Drake up?”
“Yeah, he’ll be there soon. So will I.”
“Take your time.”
“Thanks.”
The line went dead and Devon felt a sudden jab in his side. “This person…”
“… decided that we call this person MAX. The police found…”
“MAX, huh?” Devon shoved his hands in his pockets and continued walking. “So now they have a name for it.”
Ring… ring… ring…
“Hello?” a tiresome voice said on the other end. I just woke him up.
“Drake, where are you right now?” Devon proceeded down the sidewalk when something caught his eye.
There was a yawn on the other line. “In bed… what do you want?” Devon didn’t answer right away. He stared bewilderedly ahead of him. “Hello? Dev?”
“Drake, it’s Monday,” Devon answered still in his trance.
“No it ain’t…”
“Yes it is! Get your butt to headquarters now!”
“Ugh… you’re shitting me right?”
“Drake, get up! You’re late already.”
“Five more minutes, Mom…” Devon heard a yawn.
“Get your butt out of bed now! And would it kill you to not swear every other sentence!”
“Gee wiz!” Drake laughed. Devon wanted to smack him through the phone. “I’m not Nicole!” He rolled his eyes as he thought of his sister.
“You wish.”
“Like hell I do!” They both laughed. Devon’s older sister only by about two years or so has Drake in the palm of her hand. “All right man, I’m coming.”
Devon squeezed the empty coffee cup in his hand. “Good.”
“See you in a – ”
Devon hung up the phone and placed it in his pocket. Faintly, he could hear the man on the screen through the glass. He tossed his coffee cup into the trash and approached Pete’s Home Appliances. In the display window were several working TVs, all playing the same channel, the six o’ clock news on channel twelve.
“… killings throughout the city. Will these murderous actions of x amount of people ever come to an end?
“Well, folks, this unknown killer strikes again. Last night at one fifty-eight downtown, notorious robber, Jacob Feinstein, robbed a local convenient store. Police were in pursuit as soon as the alarm sounded. They caught sight of Feinstein just as he rounded a corner. Once our officers turned that same corner, he was nowhere to be seen. However, after several blocks, they had turned around. While cruising up the road, they spotted someone walking out of an alley. Just as they were about to question this person, they spotted Jacob Feinstein on the ground stabbed through the heart.”
The sudden vibration made Devon jump. “Geez…” he sighed and reached into his pocket. “Hello?”
“Devon, where are you? Everyone is here.”
He looked at his watch. “Sorry, I got a little sidetracked.” There was a long pause on the other end before she answered him.
“… murder from last night was most likely the same…”
“Did you wake Drake up?”
“Yeah, he’ll be there soon. So will I.”
“Take your time.”
“Thanks.”
The line went dead and Devon felt a sudden jab in his side. “This person…”
“… decided that we call this person MAX. The police found…”
“MAX, huh?” Devon shoved his hands in his pockets and continued walking. “So now they have a name for it.”
Vigilantes
The streets black and the sky a deadly blue, this criminal pushed his weight forward, running from the sound of the waning alarm. Money hung from his right hand and a handgun in his left. He knew the police were bound to chase him. This fugitive continued to sprint when he saw a tall figure standing in the distance, their shoulders squared at him. “Out of the way!” he shouted violently at the figure. He raised his gun, “Or I’ll shoot!” The figure didn’t move. It was too dark; the criminal couldn’t see their face. This angered him. His finger ready to pull the trigger, suddenly tensed when he heard the sirens. The renegade glanced over his shoulder to see the flashing lights racing down the road. “Damn cops!” The criminal dashed across the street and into a dark alleyway. He continued down the darkened corridor. The sound of footsteps behind him made him nervous. They’re gaining on me!
There was a mistake in his assumption, a flaw. Don’t ever assume.
The dark, mysterious figure that stood on that sidewalk was now across the street. Their shoulders squared toward the alley. They took several swift steps forward and then stopped. They knew. They slipped a gloved hand into their jacket pocket and pulled out something. The criminal’s running steps echoed through the alley. A simple flick of the wrist… and the footsteps ceased. The figure lowered their hand to their side and walked forward. The cop cars sped past the alleyway, their sirens wailing away. The dark figure stepped over the lifeless dead corpse and went to retrieve his dagger impaled in the wooden fence. They examined the dagger, stained with blood. Again, the figure reached into their pocket and pulled out a cloth. They rapped the blade from the handle up and slipped it back into their jacket.
A dead end. How ironic.
The figure knelt down, being sure not to touch the body. Straight through the heart, it never fails. The sirens began approaching again. Took them long enough. The deed is already done. The figure stood and walked out of the alley and crossed the street. There, parked on the corner was a cab. The figure walked to the corner and looked at the cab. Now, the lights visible, they got into the driver’s side of the car. The engine roared to life, but they waited. Watching from the review mirror, they observed the cops screeching to a halt and deploying out of their cars surrounding the alleyway.
They then shifted the lever from P to D, stepped on the gas, and drove down the street at the appropriate speed limit.
There was a mistake in his assumption, a flaw. Don’t ever assume.
The dark, mysterious figure that stood on that sidewalk was now across the street. Their shoulders squared toward the alley. They took several swift steps forward and then stopped. They knew. They slipped a gloved hand into their jacket pocket and pulled out something. The criminal’s running steps echoed through the alley. A simple flick of the wrist… and the footsteps ceased. The figure lowered their hand to their side and walked forward. The cop cars sped past the alleyway, their sirens wailing away. The dark figure stepped over the lifeless dead corpse and went to retrieve his dagger impaled in the wooden fence. They examined the dagger, stained with blood. Again, the figure reached into their pocket and pulled out a cloth. They rapped the blade from the handle up and slipped it back into their jacket.
A dead end. How ironic.
The figure knelt down, being sure not to touch the body. Straight through the heart, it never fails. The sirens began approaching again. Took them long enough. The deed is already done. The figure stood and walked out of the alley and crossed the street. There, parked on the corner was a cab. The figure walked to the corner and looked at the cab. Now, the lights visible, they got into the driver’s side of the car. The engine roared to life, but they waited. Watching from the review mirror, they observed the cops screeching to a halt and deploying out of their cars surrounding the alleyway.
They then shifted the lever from P to D, stepped on the gas, and drove down the street at the appropriate speed limit.
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