Status: Just a short story I did.
Unmask Your Desire
Yellow Springs, Ohio
Yellow Springs, Ohio
I walked into the Sunrise Cafe craving for a large lunch after the long drive to Yellow Springs, Ohio. The weather was extremely hot and I couldn’t wait to get inside a building with air conditioning. I parked my black 1967 Chevrolet Camaro out front and chose a table where I could see it. I never trusted small towns like this. It always seemed the bad things happened in them. And I don’t mean some petty car thief. Those are easy to deal with. I’m talking supernatural bad, like demons, ghosts, you name it.
My name is Riley Fay and I specialize in hunting down the supernatural. It’s not like I advertise this as my career though. I mean, yeah a bunch of children may believe me but for the most part, adults don’t. Or at least, they don’t until it happens to them. Then they’re begging for my help. This usually occurs after the accusations that I have lost my sanity, or the calling of the police. It’s a pretty shitty job when nobody believes it’s real. But hey, somebody has to help the naive people who live out their lives never being fully aware of what could be hiding in the dark.
That’s why I found myself in a town with less than 4,000 inhabitants. There was something evil in this town and it’s my job to find out what it is, and to kill it.
While I waited for my buffalo burger, I scanned the folder of newspaper clippings and articles printed off the computer. It was a collection of stories that all pointed to my kind of case. Over the past month a lot of murders and attempted murders have happened in Yellow Springs. Most of the cases involved someone cheating on their partner, and then the partner seeking revenge. Unfortunately for the cheaters, revenge is usually achieved. This may sound like no big deal but it was the 31st of October, and already 18 murders had happened in this month alone. For a small town like this, it was definitely unusual.
As I scanned the stories I had gathered I heard the jingling of the door bell, announcing new customers. I don’t know why I looked up because it’s not like I cared who was entering the cafe, but for some reason I glanced from my papers to look anyway. The first to enter was a tall man with semi-long dark brown hair and dark eyes to match. He was wearing a dusty red plaid shirt under a brown corduroy jacket and a simple pair of jeans. I watched as he quickly scanned the room before walking over to a booth by the window. A second man followed him into the cafe. This one was a bit shorter, with short dirty blonde hair. He wore a blue button up shirt, unbuttoned to reveal an interesting amulet that I had never seen before. Like his partner, this man also scanned the place, his hazel-green eyes taking in every face. I was surprised when his eyes landed on mine. I quickly checked him out to summarize that he was in fact a pretty sexy looking person. A smile grew across his face, the kind that every man wore when they thought they could get lucky. The glare I returned made him frown and turn away to sit with his bud. I knew his type. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have enjoyed a one night stand, but I had business to attend to. Besides, as I vacated the building, I noticed the man giving the same smile to the waitress attending them. The waitress was totally falling for it.
I walked over to where my car was parked. I opened the door and threw my folder into the passenger seat as I started the engine. I opened my glove box while stopped at a red light and pulled out a fake FBI badge. My next stop was the Owen’s residence, where the first victim had been murdered. The crime scene had been tidied up by now and the wife thrown in jail for murdering her husband and his mistress, but I had discovered that their daughter still lived there with her aunt. She was a known witness to the crime and could hopefully give me some background information.
It only took me about 5 minutes to get to the small, blue barn shaped house. I pulled into the driveway beside the family’s truck, hoping that this meant they would be home. I wore a white shirt under a black leather jacket. I had on a pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of black leather boots. To make myself look a bit more professional I put on a pair of sunglasses. All stereotypical FBI people wore sunglasses, night or day, right? The daughter was only 16 so I figured this would be enough to trick her.
I went up to the white door and knocked loudly. It didn’t take long for the daughter to answer, peaking out with the door barely ajar. I held out my badge. “FBI. I’m agent Lindsey Smith, may I ask you a few questions?”
The girl’s eyes darkened. “Is this about the murder of my father?”
“It is.” I confirmed.
“I’ve already been questioned.” Her tone sounded more bored than anything. “Oh, and my mom’s already been arrested, so it’s not like it’s an open case or anything. You know, case closed.”
She began to close the door but I stopped it with my hand. “You were questioned by local authorities. The FBI is doing a background check of the murders that have been occurring.”
“To what, make sure the police are doing their job properly?”
“We can go with that.” I smiled, hoping to convince her to let me in. To my relief the girl backed away to let the door open fully.
“We can talk in the living room.” She mumbled. I followed her down the hall, observing many family pictures as I walked. There were at least a dozen hung along the walls, and were all full of smiling faces. I recognized the victim and his wife in one of the pictures. They looked extremely happy which made me even more curious. The living room was simple with two couches sitting across from each other and a coffee table in between. There was a fireplace on the wall that held even more pictures of this apparently happy family.
“So do you want me to describe what I saw or what?” the girl’s impatient voice drew my attention. She was already seated on one of the couches. I sat myself on the one across from her.
“No actually. I’d like you to start with information about your family. Were your parents happy together? Or have there been problems before.. this.” I asked, referring to the murder.
“Actually, my parents were really happy together. But a few days before my mom killed him, my dad had been going out a lot. I followed him once, because you know, he almost never went out at night before. I found him in a bar, gambling and, well, flirting with most of the women there. My dad has never gambled before and as far as I know, never looked at any other women either. “She paused, and for a moment I saw grief in her eyes. She had been hiding it rather well and for awhile had me convinced she didn’t care about any of this.
“Was your mom generally an angry person?” I continued my questioning, hoping to get through it fast so the girl could be alone.
The girl shook her head. “We argued sometimes, of course. But what teenage girl never argues with their parents? Other than that she was generally happy, and definitely could never have killed anyone. This has been such a shock.”
I nodded. “I think I have enough information about that. Can you describe what you saw now?”
“It was late at night, around 1:00 am and I was hungry so I went to my kitchen to find some food. As I passed the living room, I saw my dad on the couch with some chick. At first I thought it was my mom and was going to tell them to break it up as a joke but then someone pushed me on the floor. It was my mom, who was rushing into the room with a knife. Luckily from my place on the floor the couch blocked out the worst of it but I saw my mom stab again and again. I’ve never seen her so angry. I’ve never seen anyone so angry.” The girl now seemed to be trembling so I decided to wrap it up.
“Thank you for your co-operation. I’ll be back if I need anything else, but I think I have enough.” I rose, and let myself out, seeing that the girl was staring distantly into the fireplace. I figured I had disturbed her enough.
I made my way down the driveway to my car, pondering what the girl had told me. My thoughts were interrupted when I saw one of my dream cars parked on the road. It was a 1967 Chevrolet Impala. If I wasn’t for my lay low attitude I probably would have waited around to meet the owner of such a beautiful vehicle. Instead I drove away to question other people involved with the murders of Yellow Springs.
I walked into the Sunrise Cafe craving for a large lunch after the long drive to Yellow Springs, Ohio. The weather was extremely hot and I couldn’t wait to get inside a building with air conditioning. I parked my black 1967 Chevrolet Camaro out front and chose a table where I could see it. I never trusted small towns like this. It always seemed the bad things happened in them. And I don’t mean some petty car thief. Those are easy to deal with. I’m talking supernatural bad, like demons, ghosts, you name it.
My name is Riley Fay and I specialize in hunting down the supernatural. It’s not like I advertise this as my career though. I mean, yeah a bunch of children may believe me but for the most part, adults don’t. Or at least, they don’t until it happens to them. Then they’re begging for my help. This usually occurs after the accusations that I have lost my sanity, or the calling of the police. It’s a pretty shitty job when nobody believes it’s real. But hey, somebody has to help the naive people who live out their lives never being fully aware of what could be hiding in the dark.
That’s why I found myself in a town with less than 4,000 inhabitants. There was something evil in this town and it’s my job to find out what it is, and to kill it.
While I waited for my buffalo burger, I scanned the folder of newspaper clippings and articles printed off the computer. It was a collection of stories that all pointed to my kind of case. Over the past month a lot of murders and attempted murders have happened in Yellow Springs. Most of the cases involved someone cheating on their partner, and then the partner seeking revenge. Unfortunately for the cheaters, revenge is usually achieved. This may sound like no big deal but it was the 31st of October, and already 18 murders had happened in this month alone. For a small town like this, it was definitely unusual.
As I scanned the stories I had gathered I heard the jingling of the door bell, announcing new customers. I don’t know why I looked up because it’s not like I cared who was entering the cafe, but for some reason I glanced from my papers to look anyway. The first to enter was a tall man with semi-long dark brown hair and dark eyes to match. He was wearing a dusty red plaid shirt under a brown corduroy jacket and a simple pair of jeans. I watched as he quickly scanned the room before walking over to a booth by the window. A second man followed him into the cafe. This one was a bit shorter, with short dirty blonde hair. He wore a blue button up shirt, unbuttoned to reveal an interesting amulet that I had never seen before. Like his partner, this man also scanned the place, his hazel-green eyes taking in every face. I was surprised when his eyes landed on mine. I quickly checked him out to summarize that he was in fact a pretty sexy looking person. A smile grew across his face, the kind that every man wore when they thought they could get lucky. The glare I returned made him frown and turn away to sit with his bud. I knew his type. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have enjoyed a one night stand, but I had business to attend to. Besides, as I vacated the building, I noticed the man giving the same smile to the waitress attending them. The waitress was totally falling for it.
I walked over to where my car was parked. I opened the door and threw my folder into the passenger seat as I started the engine. I opened my glove box while stopped at a red light and pulled out a fake FBI badge. My next stop was the Owen’s residence, where the first victim had been murdered. The crime scene had been tidied up by now and the wife thrown in jail for murdering her husband and his mistress, but I had discovered that their daughter still lived there with her aunt. She was a known witness to the crime and could hopefully give me some background information.
It only took me about 5 minutes to get to the small, blue barn shaped house. I pulled into the driveway beside the family’s truck, hoping that this meant they would be home. I wore a white shirt under a black leather jacket. I had on a pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of black leather boots. To make myself look a bit more professional I put on a pair of sunglasses. All stereotypical FBI people wore sunglasses, night or day, right? The daughter was only 16 so I figured this would be enough to trick her.
I went up to the white door and knocked loudly. It didn’t take long for the daughter to answer, peaking out with the door barely ajar. I held out my badge. “FBI. I’m agent Lindsey Smith, may I ask you a few questions?”
The girl’s eyes darkened. “Is this about the murder of my father?”
“It is.” I confirmed.
“I’ve already been questioned.” Her tone sounded more bored than anything. “Oh, and my mom’s already been arrested, so it’s not like it’s an open case or anything. You know, case closed.”
She began to close the door but I stopped it with my hand. “You were questioned by local authorities. The FBI is doing a background check of the murders that have been occurring.”
“To what, make sure the police are doing their job properly?”
“We can go with that.” I smiled, hoping to convince her to let me in. To my relief the girl backed away to let the door open fully.
“We can talk in the living room.” She mumbled. I followed her down the hall, observing many family pictures as I walked. There were at least a dozen hung along the walls, and were all full of smiling faces. I recognized the victim and his wife in one of the pictures. They looked extremely happy which made me even more curious. The living room was simple with two couches sitting across from each other and a coffee table in between. There was a fireplace on the wall that held even more pictures of this apparently happy family.
“So do you want me to describe what I saw or what?” the girl’s impatient voice drew my attention. She was already seated on one of the couches. I sat myself on the one across from her.
“No actually. I’d like you to start with information about your family. Were your parents happy together? Or have there been problems before.. this.” I asked, referring to the murder.
“Actually, my parents were really happy together. But a few days before my mom killed him, my dad had been going out a lot. I followed him once, because you know, he almost never went out at night before. I found him in a bar, gambling and, well, flirting with most of the women there. My dad has never gambled before and as far as I know, never looked at any other women either. “She paused, and for a moment I saw grief in her eyes. She had been hiding it rather well and for awhile had me convinced she didn’t care about any of this.
“Was your mom generally an angry person?” I continued my questioning, hoping to get through it fast so the girl could be alone.
The girl shook her head. “We argued sometimes, of course. But what teenage girl never argues with their parents? Other than that she was generally happy, and definitely could never have killed anyone. This has been such a shock.”
I nodded. “I think I have enough information about that. Can you describe what you saw now?”
“It was late at night, around 1:00 am and I was hungry so I went to my kitchen to find some food. As I passed the living room, I saw my dad on the couch with some chick. At first I thought it was my mom and was going to tell them to break it up as a joke but then someone pushed me on the floor. It was my mom, who was rushing into the room with a knife. Luckily from my place on the floor the couch blocked out the worst of it but I saw my mom stab again and again. I’ve never seen her so angry. I’ve never seen anyone so angry.” The girl now seemed to be trembling so I decided to wrap it up.
“Thank you for your co-operation. I’ll be back if I need anything else, but I think I have enough.” I rose, and let myself out, seeing that the girl was staring distantly into the fireplace. I figured I had disturbed her enough.
I made my way down the driveway to my car, pondering what the girl had told me. My thoughts were interrupted when I saw one of my dream cars parked on the road. It was a 1967 Chevrolet Impala. If I wasn’t for my lay low attitude I probably would have waited around to meet the owner of such a beautiful vehicle. Instead I drove away to question other people involved with the murders of Yellow Springs.