Chapter 3
Sleep did eventually come, ten minutes before my alarm went off. It’s crazy how you can be fully asleep, in a deep sleep for all of ten minutes. I jolted awake and could feel my heart racing, must have been dreaming, it’s a shame I can’t always remember my dreams, but I can still feel the after effects, nonetheless. I lay in bed for what feels like an hour just staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together what happened the night before. After a strong attempt with no success, I get out of bed to make some coffee, lord knows I’ll need it today. Today is my birthday lunch with Mum. I have no idea how I’m supposed to focus on anything other than what I saw or thought I saw last night. Mum will be able to tell something is wrong if I’m not careful, she always can. This seems to be a special gift Mums have, they just know when something isn’t quite right, usually this is a blessing but today it will feel like a curse. As it’s only always been Mum and me, she can read me like a book, she knows the deepest parts of me, this is why I tend to keep the visits to a bare minimum. Today is Mum’s day and I am going to try my very best to make sure it’s a good one.
I checked my phone for any messages whilst drinking my second cup of filter coffee, knowing Mum, she would have messaged me confirming our lunch date. As expected, Mum asks for confirmation and this is given to her. There wouldn’t be any other messages, I don’t have many friends who would want to get in touch, no boyfriend either for that matter. I have flings every so often, to feel something. The flings are almost always with unavailable men (some married), as this is the best way to get what I need without the possibility of commitment. Approaching 11am and lunch being with Mum at 2pm, I best start to get myself ready. I pour myself one more cup of coffee and head to the bathroom for a shower.
Chapter 4
My Mum lives an hour and a half away by car, I don’t drive so uber it is. I would usually just catch a train to anywhere I want to go but today I cannot face people. As we drive through the city of London I look outside, people are walking their dogs, having brunch, none of these people have any idea what may have happened last night outside my office building. I say may, because I’m not entirely sure anything did happen yet. The three cups of coffee I had this morning for energy seem to have worn off and I feel myself dozing off. It’s very dangerous to fall asleep in a stranger’s car but I couldn’t help it, besides, I’m one of those people who choose not to be afraid of much. I can feel the car slowing down so I wake up, safe and sound outside my mum’s house. I decided to tip the driver and give him a four-star rating as the kind gentleman left me to sleep in peace. Uber drivers can either be super talkative or super quiet, very rarely is there an in-between. Today I’m grateful he was one of the quiet ones. As I walk down the path, I see the front door swing open and my mum smiles, but her eyes are full of concern. I’ve become accustomed to this look of concern but no matter what, I always smile warmly back. “Happy birthday Mum!” I embrace her and feel safe and loved.
“Thank you darling,” she responds.
We walk through to the kitchen and Mum pops the kettle on, she then busies herself with chopping up some vegetables. Mum always tries her very best to get me to eat my fruit and vegetables, they’re not my favourite food group but I don’t mind eating them to keep her happy. Whilst Mum continues to prepare lunch, I make a start on the tea and not being able to stand the silence any longer I speak first, “So Mum, how’s things?” Mum takes a moment to respond.
“Things with me are fine darling, same old business. I did, however, join a new Zumba class the other week, have you ever tried it?”
I answer, “I can’t say I have tried it mother, you know me, I’m not really the physical type. I’m glad you’ve found something new to try, something fun.”
The rest of the afternoon is pleasant, after lunch we have some more tea but this time with cake, we chit chat about mundane things and before I know it the day is coming to an end. I have managed to get through today without showing any obvious signs of distress which I am super surprised about. Just when I’m about to leave mum gets that look of concern back and I know that she is debating in her head right now about whether or not she should ask if I’m ok. Here it comes, “Are you ok Lucy? I know you’ve been acting fine all day, but I can tell something is possibly wrong.”
I wait a moment before answering, “Mum, I’m ok, I’m just tired. Work has been very hectic this week.”
Mum doesn’t look convinced, but she also knows that it’s best to trust what I’m saying unless proven otherwise (for her own peace of mind). We embrace again at the door and again, I feel safe and loved. I throw her a little wave and get into my uber, the distressing thoughts resurfacing for the journey home.
Chapter 5
A typical Saturday evening for me would usually be, my favourite takeaway, a bottle of wine and trashy TV. I watch trashy TV because it has no real meaning and you don’t need to focus at all to watch it. Tonight however, I can’t eat due to the nausea I seem to be experiencing and even though I consider getting something a lot stronger than wine to make myself feel numb, I decide that if I’m going to really figure out what happened that night, I will need a clear head so this should be avoided. I lay down on the sofa and I closed my eyes. I tried to steady my heart rate by breathing in and out slowly and trying to remember that night. I’m staring out the office window, my face pressed up against the glass, I see a figure I believe to be a woman. I see the blood smears, but the image of the woman’s face is blurry, I try to close my eyes more tightly, hoping this will make her face clearer to me, it doesn’t. I open my eyes, back in the present and sigh, let’s try this again. I decided to try and picture the killer and the weapon instead this time. The gun is as clear as day to me but just like the victim, the killer is a blur. How am I supposed to move forward with my life if I cannot remember a damn thing of value about that night. If what happened was real, I was the only person who witnessed it, the only person who may be able to help catch the killer. If what happened was not real, then what did that mean for me? This reality is too scary to fathom, I need a drink.
Two hours and six, maybe ten shots of whiskey later I find myself falling into a comatose like state, I was drunk that was for certain, and my body was shutting down for the rest of the night. Tomorrow was another day, I just hoped and prayed for it to be a better one. Due to passing out last night the curtains have been left open, the morning light shines into the living room and wakes me up. As I open my eyes slowly, the sun burns into them and I find myself squinting, I roll myself over onto my front to shield my eyes away from the sun and I drift off again. I wake up an hour later only to be greeted with an excruciating shooting pain through my head, I need some water and a shower ASAP. Two pints of water and a shower later, I start to feel human again, only slightly. I need to get out of the house, fresh air is desperately needed. I walk for what feels like hours and in my current fragile state, I should really sit down. I find a public bench along the high street and sit myself down. It’s surprisingly busy for a Sunday and I would have much preferred it to be quieter. As a force of habit, I people watch, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary today until I glance to my left. I feel a presence, almost like someone or something is watching me. I stare in the same direction, to the left, amongst the crowds of people I see a figure. I don’t think I know who this person is, but it feels like they know me, they are staring directly at me, almost through me. Before I can look long enough to see if I recognise them, they vanish, just like the other night. This cannot be a coincidence, but I am hoping deep down that it is, and with that, I start to briskly walk home. I didn’t feel safe and based on today’s events, I’m not entirely sure I will ever feel safe again.
Chapter 6
Everywhere I go now, the supermarket, work, all I feel is fear. There is somebody watching my every move, I can feel it, it’s unsettling to say the least. I sleep with one eye open; I’m always looking behind when I’m walking around. What if I was next? This killer, this thing, knows I saw the murder take place, I don’t know how but they have found me. Worse part of all of this is that I haven’t even told a soul, this killer is not being chased by the cops, so why follow me around? The only thing I can think of is that this killer doesn’t care about what I could do, they just want to kill me next. They say serial killers have a type; I could be the perfect fit for the sick, twisted fantasy this killer needs to satisfy. I think I need to lie down.
After a short nap I decided to turn on the TV to catch up on the news. I don’t usually watch the news as I just find it depressing but I am waiting for someone to find the victim, she must be out there somewhere, there must be someone who misses her. This has become a daily habit and just about when I decide to turn the TV off to get ready for my shift, I see it. The victim I witnessed being murdered is finally on the news, she was finally found. She was so pretty, blond hair, green eyes, around 5’3”. What a waste, this poor woman who is around only 25 years old, the reporter states, has had her life cut short by a sadistic killer. Whilst I stare at the TV, at this poor woman’s picture, I can’t help but notice we look similar, I have blond hair, blue eyes and I’m around 5’1”. This turns my blood cold and I freeze, I was the killer’s type, as far as I was concerned, I was a dead woman at this point. Today was Thursday, and my shift was about to start shortly. I best get myself ready. I arrive at the office building just within enough time not to be late. I can’t help but think I wish it was summer right now, not because I dislike cooler weather, but because it’s light outside until 9pm. I used to find the night-time soothing; I now find it terrifying. Bad things only seem to happen at night, this never used to bother me, or cross my mind, until I witnessed a murder.
I walk into the foyer and press the lift button, I’m alone at first but then I feel a presence next to me. I’m too scared to turn and look but it turns out I didn’t need to, the person spoke. “Hi Lucy.”
It’s a voice I don’t recognise. I have to turn now, I need to look at this person, I need to see who they are. I turn my head slowly and I see him, the killer, I’m sure of it.
“How do you know my name?” The man waits a moment and then speaks.
“I know all about you Lucy, it’s my job to know who my potential victims are.”
I don’t know what to do and I’m paralysed with fear. After this response, the man leaves and the lift doors open, I step inside alone and press my floor number. I was a dead woman.
Chapter 7
Ever since my encounter with my maker I haven’t been eating, sleeping or answering any of my Mums’ phone calls. I lay awake wondering; does he know where I live and if so, does he watch me from the outside. He already knows where I work, it isn’t much of a stretch to imagine he also knows my personal home address as well. Right now, I am living off of coffee and fear, not the best combination but I cannot eat a damn thing. My days take place in a haze, I get out of bed, shower, get dressed, drink coffee, go to work, come home, repeat. I never walk alone at night anymore, I always make sure I get a cab home, buses are also a little too risky. Yes, this is costing a small fortune, but can you really put a price on personal safety, I don’t think so. If I were an optimistic person, I would say something like, oh at least I’ve lost a few pounds! Luckily, I am not but nevertheless it’s true, I’ve lost around five pounds I would say. I don’t think it’ll stop there, maybe I’ll just wither away so I can no longer be seen by anyone.
Wednesday morning, work was difficult last night. I’m starting to fall in and out of consciousness and for a security guard that is just not acceptable. If I’m not careful or if I don’t try to eat or sleep, I don’t think I’ll have a job for much longer. Sleeping pills could work to aid sleep and the no eating thing, maybe I could try a protein shake. Having said that, maybe losing this job would be a good move and then I can start fresh somewhere else. The killer couldn’t possibly follow me halfway around the country just to murder me, that seems like a lot of effort but then again, he lives for killing and I am his prey. I haven’t just been ignoring my Mums’ calls because I am in a crisis, I do not want her to come to any harm and I have a feeling if we talk, she will know something is wrong and she will want to help. I cannot risk losing my mother, she is all I have in this cruel world. I drop mother a text every so often just so she knows A) I’m alive and B) so she doesn’t come over to the house. I need to think about my next steps, I need to decide what road to take and I need to decide quickly.
Chapter 8
It’s now Friday morning, a week later and I am in bed contemplating where to go. I was fired at work last night, turns out falling asleep at work has since escalated. I was experiencing night terrors which are definitely inappropriate within a work environment. I mean I knew I was experiencing them at home after I took enough sleeping pills with vodka to fall asleep in the first place. Unfortunately, what I do whilst asleep is not within my control and now I’m unemployed. I haven’t been for a walk alone in weeks, but I feel today I need to at least try. I haven’t seen the killer since that day by the lift at work, maybe I am at least safe enough to walk in broad daylight outside by myself.
I wrap myself up warm, it’s bloody freezing outside. Hair could use a wash but nothing some dry shampoo can’t fix until later today. I am almost out the door when I realise, I forgot something, pepper spray. If I’m going to possibly be at risk, I need to at least be prepared for the worse. Pepper spray intact, I lock the front door behind me and start to walk. Breathing in fresh air is one of the most amazing feelings when you’ve been cooped up inside and the house is in an absolute state. I stand still for just a moment, close my eyes and breathe in and out for about three minutes. The three minutes feels like an eternity and when I open my eyes, I’m still here, safe. With this knowledge I smile to myself and carry on walking towards the local park. I find a bench overlooking the boating lake and decide to sit down. I’m not usually this exhausted from a short walk, but I am a shadow of my normal self at the moment and it shows. I wonder what it’s like to be a duck, or a swan. What a peaceful life they live, swimming around, whilst us humans out here are faced with somewhat difficult, or challenging lives. If I believed there was such a thing as reincarnation I would definitely come back as an animal, maybe a dog, or a cat. As I sit lost in my thoughts, the space next to me suddenly becomes occupied and I feel the presence of something, or should I say someone, and they are evil. I knew I shouldn’t have left the house. “Hello Lucy, beautiful day, isn’t it?” I cannot catch my breath so the silence on my part continues.
“Finally left the house I see; I was wondering how long it would take.”
“Leave me alone,” is all I can muster.
“Now, if I left you alone, that wouldn’t be much fun would it. Don’t leave town, or do, but if you do, I’ll know. Good day Lucy.” And with that, he left.
Chapter 9
David Lewis
I’ve been watching Lucy for weeks since our first encounter and nothing of interest has happened to my dismay. She is rather boring and stalking her is more of a chore rather than a luxury which it has been with some of my previous victims. Unlike Lucy, I am still employed and had an hour to grab her for a chat before returning back to work. Having a day job is one of the many mundane things I endure to look as if I have a normal life to other people. I work in Marks & Spencer’s, stocking shelves, working the till, that sort of thing. I actually met some of my victims here which is probably the only perk. Haven’t quite yet decided to marry and have children which would in fairness make me blend in with people more, but I have my reasons. Having a family would be time consuming and I would have to hide my hobbies from them as we would share a household. When I say hobbies, I mean murdering people. Sure, I may read the odd book or do the odd crossword but my main enjoyment in life is to kill. Couldn’t really say for certain why I want to kill people, but when I do successfully murder someone, I feel like I have achieved something. I feel very proud and just like all serial killers I collect trophies. Another reason why I cannot share a home with anyone else. To keep it interesting I take a different trophy each time, if the victim is wearing something, I like the look of, say a ring, a bracelet, I’ll take that. If that is not available, then a lock of hair will have to do. The lock of hair is not ideal purely because I have a type, the hair colour is always the same but alas, beggars can’t be choosers.
I first saw Lucy on a train, and I cannot remember what day, what time or where I was going. Sometimes it can take a long time before I find someone I like, the second time I saw Lucy was when I murdered Marie outside her work building. This was purely accidental; I hadn’t yet finished with Marie when I first saw Lucy, so I wasn’t following her around just yet. Fate however decided to bring us together again, I almost cried with gratitude when I laid eyes on her that night. Usually, I wait a few months between kills so as to not raise suspicion, but I couldn’t let Lucy go, she was early, but she was next.
Chapter 10
Lucy Curtis
He found me, like I always knew he would. I cannot stay locked in my house forever, even if I did, he would get inside somehow, at some point and kill me. I decided to take a trip, just like the killer suggested. I may not be safe wherever I go but I know I cannot stay here; I pack a weekend bag for Cornwall. I have no friends and no family in Cornwall, meaning no-one I know or care about can get wrapped up in this mess. I’m so tired of the fear, if I’m going to go down, I’m going down with a fight. I take one more glance around my house, I decide I cannot be bothered to clean it before I leave so I don’t. I order an uber and it’s outside in five minutes, I slide into the backseat of the car with my belongings and set on my way. Knowing I cannot leave my mother in the dark I drop her a text letting her know I’m off on a minibreak, she’ll be delighted as usually I’m a workaholic and don’t make time for anything else. I thought it best to leave out the part where I’ve become recently unemployed as this would only make her worry. As we get to Liverpool Street station, I can see my train is leaving in twelve minutes, I can’t help but wish it was already here as I know the killer could be watching. I see people boarding early anyway so I join them. A packed train full of people seems safer than waiting outside the platform gates so I feel a slight sense of relief. I found my seat number and I am very pleased to find the seat next to me is already occupied, no nasty surprises on who could have been sitting there. I fiddle with my phone for a bit and decide to play candy crush whilst I wait for the train to leave the station. Before I know it, we are moving off.
Chapter 11
