An Unholy Killer Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The car came up it was blue this time still there were no license plates and the figure was as always dressed in black and the hooker walks up to the car the figure opens the door and she gets in saying it will be 250 for a ride of his life. The figure drives to an abandoned building and the figure gets out the hooker follows and strips and turns around. She hears the rustle of plastic and then feels the searing shocking pain. She is stabbed again multiple times but nobody is around to hear her scream with her final breaths of life. The figure is counting she hears and she hears the number 57 as the last thing she hear before her life force gives away into nothing. The figure continues to stab the lifeless body, 117 times to be exact just like the previous 2 times. Then just like the previous two times the figure strips and walks to a hose and turns it on letting the water run over its hands then wipes everything down even though the figure is still wearing the gloves, it then walks over and places the clothes and the gloves into a bag and gets dressed from a different bag then it gets in to the car. The figure drives about 20 minutes into the desert and where a group of homeless people are staying. The figure places the clothes into the canister they are burning out of and pours lighter fluid on top and throws in a match to light it on fire, then gets into the car and drives for another 50 miles before parking getting out of the car and wipes it down and getting into the waiting car. Again down in time the figure is getting better.

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An Unholy Creation Chapter One

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Chapter One

I watch from afar, I see him now, though I could smell him long before he walked up to those steps.  Funny how I can now walk in the day time as long as there is no direct sun, Alaska has been such a great place for me over the centuries, though Scotland, especially Ben Nevis, has been a close second.  I now live on Saint Bridget Island in Alaska, and have off and on since a fateful day two thousand years ago.  At first I thought I would never see the sun again, but I found I only burned that first day because my body was still changing, though direct sunlight will burn me, being out under the clouds are fine, but my powers are cut in half.  But even so they are still over a hundred times greater than humans.

I watch him and I remember how much has changed in the last almost six thousand years.  My son was killed by Argos when he was determined to rule the humans with an iron hand, not caring for humanity his eyes glowing red with evil, Marcus and I had fought against him but he created others with his views, he had killed my son.  I had wanted to die but he allowed me to live, though I did try to destroy myself, I did not succeed.  I cursed him.  I had cursed Argos with the fact my son shall be reborn and once he was of age he would remember his life all of his past and his present and Marcus and his army would destroy Argos and his followers.  Argos never comes out in the day, the very thought of the sun has him running for his coffin.  For some reason him and his men still burn even if it is a glorious cloudy day, I still do not know why.  Due to this reason, he never got a chance to rule the humans instead he stays out of sight trying to rule all vampires, it is as messed up as the US politics.

I am pretending to be a student teacher again; thankfully there is now a new boarding school here on Saint Bridget.  The younger I am when I move back the longer I can stay, I usually stay about ten to fifteen years if I start out as a freshman which I did eight years ago.  And the new transfer student that just walked up those steps smells just like my son did; even from here I could see his dark black hair, and his icy blue eyes.  Then there was his friend, Christopher, who looked more like Chris Brown then a typical Alaska raised child.  Marcus’s father who shared the icy blue eyes and ink black hair, I have never smelled as sweet as smell as the one from him, the father that is. I knew from his thoughts his name was Theodore, and from his thoughts he was just a teen himself when Marcus was born, but now seeing his son go to the same school he did, he was glad him and his wife had kept Marcus even though times were bad, being 17 and a new father.  Thankfully it did not take much to make sure Marcus was in many as the same classes I was sitting in on as possible, and got the study hall and dining hall hours I was assigned to watch over.  There was nothing I could do about the dorms, I am a female after all and the dorms are still guys and girls.

I heard the bell ring but I did not move, I waited until just a second before the tardy bell rang then appeared at my desk in the back, people avoid me, which was good, though I don’t hunt humans, their blood, still is a weakness, one I control with an iron grip, though I have slipped up a few times, but not in the last two thousand years, would not allow myself to like I did before, I would not allow my son’s death to be in vain.

The teacher walked in, and started taking role.  After that he started talking about Shakespeare, I hate English class, but with a  minor in English they want me to sit in, they talk about the classics, but I met Shakespeare and he was just an annoyance, his stories the same over and over, they were going to have to read Macbeth.  The teacher, Mr. Theodore Simmons, was new this year and Marcus’s dad in this life.  He was newly widowed and had to get away from New York City, Marcus wasn’t really happy about Alaska but it was better then being presented with the death his biological mother in this life.  I just have claim to him though his soul due to the reincarnation.

Mr. Simmons stopped at my desk and looked at me, then handed me my book.  He looked at me for a moment most likely because I tensed up, his blood so sweet from afar was even better up close, and for a split second all I could think of was how to get him away from the children, so I could have his blood.  A million different scenarios came to mind.  I was so focused on his blood I did not notice he went back up to the front and asked if any of the students had read any of Shakespeare’s plays before, Marcus and Christopher raised their hands, no surprise their English teacher dads and all, I learned that Christopher’s dad was the senior level English teacher.  Mr. Simmons was surprised.  I was reading his thoughts though they were not completely clear, something was blocking them but I was working my way around them.  Mostly so I could choose which way to lure him to his death.  When I try to get into people’s thoughts it always reminds me of the danger of other vampires, most of us have some type of special gift, we all have speed, strength and trawl, I am able to read ones past and ones thoughts, when I rest, I get visions, that is how I knew to be here at this time, and I sit here now hoping that the visions I get will help me protect Marcus in this life.

“Which of his plays have you read, Katyla?” Mr. Simmons asked.  His voice, saying my name brought me out of my thoughts, the thoughts of draining him, and muted all the voices around me; it was like his voice was the only thing in the whole world that should mean anything.  The sensations that his voice brought forth in me were foreign to me.  The vampire in me wanted his sweet blood, but the woman, well I can’t explain it; I wanted him for myself.  Forever.

“Call me Kat, and I have read all of his works” and I had, I had even seen Shakespeare himself play Juliet, I even own some manuscripts of his that had never been published, people know almost nothing of his early work.  My voice sounded off, I had to focus on my words.

“What do you think of them?”

“A little to cut and dried for my liking the times he writes about were not exactly like that, take Romeo and Juliet for example, Romeo would have been killed on sight for trying to defile Juliet, Juliet would have been married off to further an ally with one of the neighboring lands.”

“And how do you know what would have happened?”

“History is my subject, I study the past and there is not a lot I don’t know about it, I was a History Biology major English Art minor.”  Which was not 100% true; I had graduated about 60 years ago with a Ph. D in History from the local university, of course I lived though all the things they talk about happening in history.  I also have medical degrees, English degrees, all sorts, of degrees, there is not much I don’t know, I also speak almost every language ever spoken, there is a couple ancient Native American languages I don’t know, mostly because they were wiped out before I came to the ‘New World’.

“Okay, how about Macbeth, what do you think about it?”

“Well it is historically accurate after all Macbeth would have killed his predecessor and he would have been killed as well.”

“None of you have read Shakespeare; does anyone know anything about his plays, besides Marcus and Christopher?”  Nobody raised their hands.  After an hour and half of this awful class the bell rang.  “Katyla, would you please stay a minute.” Mr. Simmons asked after I walked by his desk.  I stopped and turned around, and waited for him to speak.

“Do you want to lead class discussion once a week for the semester?”

“I can do that, what would you like it to be on? Would you like it on Shakespeare himself or the play?”

“Shakespeare; how long until you graduate?”

“I am a senior, next semester.”

“What other classes are you sitting in on? I know you only sit in on my first class of each day.”

“I sit in on, Biology, Chemistry, History, Political Science, Ceramics and English.”

“Okay, you better get to your next class” he turned around to get something but I had already left, and was in the next class by the time he turned back around.  I had to leave, or I would have done something I would regret, I am just not one hundred percent what that would have been.

An Unholy Killer Chapter One

Ch. 1

The next morning… “Good Morning Las Vegas! You are listening to…” The radio snooze button is pushed and four 7 year olds run in to the bedroom.

“Mom Mom Mom Mom.”

“What?!” The young woman is now alert.

“There is a story on the news that there is a psycho killer on the loose in Las Vegas!”

“Are we safe?” They youn woman’s child is asking. The mother gets up and lifts them off the bed.

“Of course you all are I would never let anything happen to you four now get ready to go to school.” The children hug there mom and then run out of the room to the living room where the sit down in front of the television. In the bedroom the phone rings.

“Hello, Anderson household.” this young woman had gone back to her maiden name and changed her children’s last name to Anderson as well.

“Jennifer Anderson, turn on the news.” the person on the other end tells her.

“Let me guess, Amanda, there is a new killer on the loose, my 7 year old children came in running this morning worried about their safety.”

“Yeah, but Jenni, this man is sick.”

“He couldn’t have killed over 2, I haven’t been notified, but what is the situation?”

“This is the 2nd killing I guess and the victims are prostitutes.”

“Go on.”

“Well this guy is picking them up taking them to abandoned fields and killing them after he has them undress.”

“Yuck.”

“The first murder was last week, stabbed multiple times from behind and the same with the second victim.”

“Any leads on a suspect?”

“Not that the newspaper has been made aware of. But the boss down here wants to link to a Jack the Ripper copycat, and use the headline The Ripper Reincarnated.”

“Nice but Jack’s first victim was never actually linked to him, so Jack only killed five woman cutting them up and mutilating them.”

“True, but maybe he wants to double the number.”

“The serial killer, who the copy cat admires, had a ritual and the copy cat will usually do it by the book and don’t vary.”

“Yeah, yeah miss FBI serial killer profiler rain on my fun.”

“If you do go with that lead let me know what happens that gives tell tale signs.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know, talk to you later.”

“Later, Amanda.” With that Jenni hung up the phone and yelled out to her kids “You dressed?”

“Yes Mom” she heard 4 voices yell back to here.

She gets up and puts on her robe and makes her way to the kitchen glancing at the clock by her bed, it is six thirty in the morning and to early to be up on a Thursday, but her 4 children get up even earlier for the cartoons. As she gets things ready for breakfast she can’t help but remember that her life changed with one phone call from Amanda telling her to turn on the news, it was a different death different. Her husband was holding a press conference and had publicly asked for a divorce in a way. He was confessing to hiring prostitutes and he had contracted HIV though a threesome. He was confessing to hiring both male and female ‘escorts’ was the word he used. She is fine that was three years ago now and many HIV tests later, they are still negative and she thanks God everyday that her and her children are fine. Here ex husband was never the same he was the mayor of Las Vegas and had a huge political career ahead of him, which was destroyed with his confession. She thought about going back home to Adair, that is in Iowa, back to here daddy’s farm. She had bought it for him about 8 years ago before her children were born, and her dad would welcome her and her children back with open arms, but there are not many serial killers in Adair, and she works for the FBI profiling team specializing in serial killers, she travels a lot but not so much from Las Vegas, that is why she stays. She also teaches some times at the local high school, history, so that way when she is taking a mind break she has something to do when the kids are at school. But mostly she works from home on her cases. Now what got Jenni into this line of work, well her family was not the normal type of family they are a weird bunch, they loved to watch true crime shows, especially about unsolved murders, so she would follow up use as much information as she could get and solved many crimes before being trained by the FBI to do so. Well what happened was the FBI tracked these anonymous tips that turned out right all the time and came knocking at her daddy’s front door. They sat down and asked a million questions for hours, before deciding to pull her from school, get her a GED and stick her in the profiling class at the FBI head quarters. Two years later she was the best in here field and she went to college mostly on-line but sometimes in class Political Science and History major with a secondary education certificate. She met her husband Richard Armstrong, he was a law student and 27 she was 18. He had gotten his masters in Political Science and then was finishing up law school, it was a crazy courtship. They married within 6 months of knowing each other. She was working for the FBI and he was setting up his political career and soon won a mayoral election right out of law school. She bought her dad his farm back and within a year she was pregnant and had four children, Agnes Bridget, Christopher Ross, Evelyn Rae and John Lee. After the children started to go to school at the age of 3 she started teaching part time so as not to be alone all the time with her work. Then 3 years ago the bomb was dropped on her. Her husband of 6 years was admitting to affairs with both women and men! And that he had HIV. She was floored he did that across national television. They were asking him were she was. She was at home in her kitchen watching the television with Amanda on the other end of the phone, she was in shock. She first went to a doctor and had blood drawn from there she got the best divorce lawyer in town, there was no way that man would get anything of hers or her children. Her dad flew out and stood by her side for the year and half of hell. She won, she got full custody of the children, the reason being certain underage prostitutes came forward and he lost all rights. Her children did not know why she was mad at their father but they were so young when going though the divorce. She changed her and her children’s’ last names back to Anderson. Now her kids watch the news every morning- case in point new killer. Not yet defined as a serial killer unless of course there has been 1 other linked. But if there was she would have received a call for a profile as soon as the third body had been found.

“Mom, we want pancakes.” Evelyn states.

“You do?”

“Yes, Yes” I hear Chris and John agree.

“How about you Ag?” She just nods her head in agreement, that is her quiet child.

“Well okay thank I will make some really quick we wouldn’t want you for late for the bus today.” She starts cooking while they go back to watching their cartoons, she is thinking about the day ahead as she sets the places and starts serving up pancakes. “Kids come and get it.” She has to go down to the main headquarters today and her children only have today and tomorrow before being let out for Christmas break. She sits and eats with her children just watching them she doesn’t get to much time, they finish and do a mad dash to the door all four could be heard yelling “bye mom” down the hall. She gets the dishes and washes them and puts them away and turns to her room to prepare for the day.

An hour later she walked into the FBI Las Vegas head quarters signed in walked right over to the door with a huge restricted sign on it and swiped her ID card gaining access and here boss was right inside waiting for her to show up.

“Jennifer, we have a problem” he was telling her as they walked to the conference room once in the conference room.

Jennifer asked ” with what a new serial killer or one of our 39 actives?”

“You.”

“What?!”

“Remember that profile you made for your final – the scorned female.”

“Our fake profiles we needed to do, yeah why? I mean how could we forget that , praise from the professors and shit from the guys in the class, they at least choose males or copy cats or the normal typical serial killer, but I made up a woman, not typical out of the ordinary very extreme and will probably never see in this life.” Jennifer and her boss are Mike are sitting at a conference table, talking so nobody can hear.

“Wrong, someone has your profile or had to have at least read it, they are coping it, to perfection.”

“Well…”

“Okay we think that it is a male that is killing the victims, the victims are actually getting into the car- they are pros.”

“Just as in my profile, well make fake profile. I mean the killer could be a female, homosexual or even bisexual, are the killings after a sexual act?”

“Not that we know of there was no sign of entry and the doc found nothing on the bodies to suggest sex within hours of being killed, most likely the first customer of the night.”

“Any undercover cops in the area?”

“Yeah, I may have the fielders ask the people on their corners.”

“You may want to pull them and send the johns, we don’t want our agents killed if there is a psycho on the loose.”

“Good point as soon as the third body is found which should be tonight I want a profile and get yours out, we need to go over both with a fine tooth comb, and keep this between only the team.”

As she walked from the conference room to her office she could see Mike’s wheels turning in his head. He was right of course when he said it was most likely a male killer, but who knows how many people had access to her grad project. She went home soon after checking her email and putting in an appearance, she waited for her children to come home cooked supper and helped them with their home work and put them to bed, but this issue was still on the back of her mind. It kept her up all night, that she was able to pull the finish product from her file (there are 2 copies one at the library in the FBI and hers) and starting the new profile.

An Unholy Killer Chapter One

Ch. 1

The next morning… “Good Morning Las Vegas! You are listening to…” The radio snooze button is pushed and four 7 year olds run in to the bedroom.

“Mom Mom Mom Mom.”

“What?!” The young woman is now alert.

“There is a story on the news that there is a psycho killer on the loose in Las Vegas!”

“Are we safe?” They youn woman’s child is asking. The mother gets up and lifts them off the bed.

“Of course you all are I would never let anything happen to you four now get ready to go to school.” The children hug there mom and then run out of the room to the living room where the sit down in front of the television. In the bedroom the phone rings.

“Hello, Anderson household.” this young woman had gone back to her maiden name and changed her children’s last name to Anderson as well.

“Jennifer Anderson, turn on the news.” the person on the other end tells her.

“Let me guess, Amanda, there is a new killer on the loose, my 7 year old children came in running this morning worried about their safety.”

“Yeah, but Jenni, this man is sick.”

“He couldn’t have killed over 2, I haven’t been notified, but what is the situation?”

“This is the 2nd killing I guess and the victims are prostitutes.”

“Go on.”

“Well this guy is picking them up taking them to abandoned fields and killing them after he has them undress.”

“Yuck.”

“The first murder was last week, stabbed multiple times from behind and the same with the second victim.”

“Any leads on a suspect?”

“Not that the newspaper has been made aware of. But the boss down here wants to link to a Jack the Ripper copycat, and use the headline The Ripper Reincarnated.”

“Nice but Jack’s first victim was never actually linked to him, so Jack only killed five woman cutting them up and mutilating them.”

“True, but maybe he wants to double the number.”

“The serial killer, who the copy cat admires, had a ritual and the copy cat will usually do it by the book and don’t vary.”

“Yeah, yeah miss FBI serial killer profiler rain on my fun.”

“If you do go with that lead let me know what happens that gives tell tale signs.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know, talk to you later.”

“Later, Amanda.” With that Jenni hung up the phone and yelled out to her kids “You dressed?”

“Yes Mom” she heard 4 voices yell back to here.

She gets up and puts on her robe and makes her way to the kitchen glancing at the clock by her bed, it is six thirty in the morning and to early to be up on a Thursday, but her 4 children get up even earlier for the cartoons. As she gets things ready for breakfast she can’t help but remember that her life changed with one phone call from Amanda telling her to turn on the news, it was a different death different. Her husband was holding a press conference and had publicly asked for a divorce in a way. He was confessing to hiring prostitutes and he had contracted HIV though a threesome. He was confessing to hiring both male and female ‘escorts’ was the word he used. She is fine that was three years ago now and many HIV tests later, they are still negative and she thanks God everyday that her and her children are fine. Here ex husband was never the same he was the mayor of Las Vegas and had a huge political career ahead of him, which was destroyed with his confession. She thought about going back home to Adair, that is in Iowa, back to here daddy’s farm. She had bought it for him about 8 years ago before her children were born, and her dad would welcome her and her children back with open arms, but there are not many serial killers in Adair, and she works for the FBI profiling team specializing in serial killers, she travels a lot but not so much from Las Vegas, that is why she stays. She also teaches some times at the local high school, history, so that way when she is taking a mind break she has something to do when the kids are at school. But mostly she works from home on her cases. Now what got Jenni into this line of work, well her family was not the normal type of family they are a weird bunch, they loved to watch true crime shows, especially about unsolved murders, so she would follow up use as much information as she could get and solved many crimes before being trained by the FBI to do so. Well what happened was the FBI tracked these anonymous tips that turned out right all the time and came knocking at her daddy’s front door. They sat down and asked a million questions for hours, before deciding to pull her from school, get her a GED and stick her in the profiling class at the FBI head quarters. Two years later she was the best in here field and she went to college mostly on-line but sometimes in class Political Science and History major with a secondary education certificate. She met her husband Richard Armstrong, he was a law student and 27 she was 18. He had gotten his masters in Political Science and then was finishing up law school, it was a crazy courtship. They married within 6 months of knowing each other. She was working for the FBI and he was setting up his political career and soon won a mayoral election right out of law school. She bought her dad his farm back and within a year she was pregnant and had four children, Agnes Bridget, Christopher Ross, Evelyn Rae and John Lee. After the children started to go to school at the age of 3 she started teaching part time so as not to be alone all the time with her work. Then 3 years ago the bomb was dropped on her. Her husband of 6 years was admitting to affairs with both women and men! And that he had HIV. She was floored he did that across national television. They were asking him were she was. She was at home in her kitchen watching the television with Amanda on the other end of the phone, she was in shock. She first went to a doctor and had blood drawn from there she got the best divorce lawyer in town, there was no way that man would get anything of hers or her children. Her dad flew out and stood by her side for the year and half of hell. She won, she got full custody of the children, the reason being certain underage prostitutes came forward and he lost all rights. Her children did not know why she was mad at their father but they were so young when going though the divorce. She changed her and her children’s’ last names back to Anderson. Now her kids watch the news every morning- case in point new killer. Not yet defined as a serial killer unless of course there has been 1 other linked. But if there was she would have received a call for a profile as soon as the third body had been found.

“Mom, we want pancakes.” Evelyn states.

“You do?”

“Yes, Yes” I hear Chris and John agree.

“How about you Ag?” She just nods her head in agreement, that is her quiet child.

“Well okay thank I will make some really quick we wouldn’t want you for late for the bus today.” She starts cooking while they go back to watching their cartoons, she is thinking about the day ahead as she sets the places and starts serving up pancakes. “Kids come and get it.” She has to go down to the main headquarters today and her children only have today and tomorrow before being let out for Christmas break. She sits and eats with her children just watching them she doesn’t get to much time, they finish and do a mad dash to the door all four could be heard yelling “bye mom” down the hall. She gets the dishes and washes them and puts them away and turns to her room to prepare for the day.

An hour later she walked into the FBI Las Vegas head quarters signed in walked right over to the door with a huge restricted sign on it and swiped her ID card gaining access and here boss was right inside waiting for her to show up.

“Jennifer, we have a problem” he was telling her as they walked to the conference room once in the conference room.

Jennifer asked ” with what a new serial killer or one of our 39 actives?”

“You.”

“What?!”

“Remember that profile you made for your final – the scorned female.”

“Our fake profiles we needed to do, yeah why? I mean how could we forget that , praise from the professors and shit from the guys in the class, they at least choose males or copy cats or the normal typical serial killer, but I made up a woman, not typical out of the ordinary very extreme and will probably never see in this life.” Jennifer and her boss are Mike are sitting at a conference table, talking so nobody can hear.

“Wrong, someone has your profile or had to have at least read it, they are coping it, to perfection.”

“Well…”

“Okay we think that it is a male that is killing the victims, the victims are actually getting into the car- they are pros.”

“Just as in my profile, well make fake profile. I mean the killer could be a female, homosexual or even bisexual, are the killings after a sexual act?”

“Not that we know of there was no sign of entry and the doc found nothing on the bodies to suggest sex within hours of being killed, most likely the first customer of the night.”

“Any undercover cops in the area?”

“Yeah, I may have the fielders ask the people on their corners.”

“You may want to pull them and send the johns, we don’t want our agents killed if there is a psycho on the loose.”

“Good point as soon as the third body is found which should be tonight I want a profile and get yours out, we need to go over both with a fine tooth comb, and keep this between only the team.”

As she walked from the conference room to her office she could see Mike’s wheels turning in his head. He was right of course when he said it was most likely a male killer, but who knows how many people had access to her grad project. She went home soon after checking her email and putting in an appearance, she waited for her children to come home cooked supper and helped them with their home work and put them to bed, but this issue was still on the back of her mind. It kept her up all night, that she was able to pull the finish product from her file (there are 2 copies one at the library in the FBI and hers) and starting the new profile.

An Unholy Creation Chapter One


Chapter One
I watch from afar, I see him now, though I could smell him long before he walked up to those steps.  Funny how I can now walk in the day time as long as there is no direct sun, Alaska has been such a great place for me over the centuries, though Scotland, especially Ben Nevis, has been a close second.  I now live on Saint Bridget Island in Alaska, and have off and on since a fateful day two thousand years ago.  At first I thought I would never see the sun again, but I found I only burned that first day because my body was still changing, though direct sunlight will burn me, being out under the clouds are fine, but my powers are cut in half.  But even so they are still over a hundred times greater than humans. 
I watch him and I remember how much has changed in the last almost six thousand years.  My son was killed by Argos when he was determined to rule the humans with an iron hand, not caring for humanity his eyes glowing red with evil, Marcus and I had fought against him but he created others with his views, he had killed my son.  I had wanted to die but he allowed me to live, though I did try to destroy myself, I did not succeed.  I cursed him.  I had cursed Argos with the fact my son shall be reborn and once he was of age he would remember his life all of his past and his present and Marcus and his army would destroy Argos and his followers.  Argos never comes out in the day, the very thought of the sun has him running for his coffin.  For some reason him and his men still burn even if it is a glorious cloudy day, I still do not know why.  Due to this reason, he never got a chance to rule the humans instead he stays out of sight trying to rule all vampires, it is as messed up as the US politics.
          I am pretending to be a student teacher again; thankfully there is now a new boarding school here on Saint Bridget.  The younger I am when I move back the longer I can stay, I usually stay about ten to fifteen years if I start out as a freshman which I did eight years ago.  And the new transfer student that just walked up those steps smells just like my son did; even from here I could see his dark black hair, and his icy blue eyes.  Then there was his friend, Christopher, who looked more like Chris Brown then a typical Alaska raised child.  Marcus’s father who shared the icy blue eyes and ink black hair, I have never smelled as sweet as smell as the one from him, the father that is. I knew from his thoughts his name was Theodore, and from his thoughts he was just a teen himself when Marcus was born, but now seeing his son go to the same school he did, he was glad him and his wife had kept Marcus even though times were bad, being 17 and a new father.  Thankfully it did not take much to make sure Marcus was in many as the same classes I was sitting in on as possible, and got the study hall and dining hall hours I was assigned to watch over.  There was nothing I could do about the dorms, I am a female after all and the dorms are still guys and girls.
          I heard the bell ring but I did not move, I waited until just a second before the tardy bell rang then appeared at my desk in the back, people avoid me, which was good, though I don’t hunt humans, their blood, still is a weakness, one I control with an iron grip, though I have slipped up a few times, but not in the last two thousand years, would not allow myself to like I did before, I would not allow my son’s death to be in vain.
The teacher walked in, and started taking role.  After that he started talking about Shakespeare, I hate English class, but with a  minor in English they want me to sit in, they talk about the classics, but I met Shakespeare and he was just an annoyance, his stories the same over and over, they were going to have to read Macbeth.  The teacher, Mr. Theodore Simmons, was new this year and Marcus’s dad in this life.  He was newly widowed and had to get away from New York City, Marcus wasn’t really happy about Alaska but it was better then being presented with the death his biological mother in this life.  I just have claim to him though his soul due to the reincarnation.
          Mr. Simmons stopped at my desk and looked at me, then handed me my book.  He looked at me for a moment most likely because I tensed up, his blood so sweet from afar was even better up close, and for a split second all I could think of was how to get him away from the children, so I could have his blood.  A million different scenarios came to mind.  I was so focused on his blood I did not notice he went back up to the front and asked if any of the students had read any of Shakespeare’s plays before, Marcus and Christopher raised their hands, no surprise their English teacher dads and all, I learned that Christopher’s dad was the senior level English teacher.  Mr. Simmons was surprised.  I was reading his thoughts though they were not completely clear, something was blocking them but I was working my way around them.  Mostly so I could choose which way to lure him to his death.  When I try to get into people’s thoughts it always reminds me of the danger of other vampires, most of us have some type of special gift, we all have speed, strength and trawl, I am able to read ones past and ones thoughts, when I rest, I get visions, that is how I knew to be here at this time, and I sit here now hoping that the visions I get will help me protect Marcus in this life.
          “Which of his plays have you read, Katyla?” Mr. Simmons asked.  His voice, saying my name brought me out of my thoughts, the thoughts of draining him, and muted all the voices around me; it was like his voice was the only thing in the whole world that should mean anything.  The sensations that his voice brought forth in me were foreign to me.  The vampire in me wanted his sweet blood, but the woman, well I can’t explain it; I wanted him for myself.  Forever.
          “Call me Kat, and I have read all of his works” and I had, I had even seen Shakespeare himself play Juliet, I even own some manuscripts of his that had never been published, people know almost nothing of his early work.  My voice sounded off, I had to focus on my words.
          “What do you think of them?”
          “A little to cut and dried for my liking the times he writes about were not exactly like that, take Romeo and Juliet for example, Romeo would have been killed on sight for trying to defile Juliet, Juliet would have been married off to further an ally with one of the neighboring lands.”
          “And how do you know what would have happened?”
          “History is my subject, I study the past and there is not a lot I don’t know about it, I was a History Biology major English Art minor.”  Which was not 100% true; I had graduated about 60 years ago with a Ph. D in History from the local university, of course I lived though all the things they talk about happening in history.  I also have medical degrees, English degrees, all sorts, of degrees, there is not much I don’t know, I also speak almost every language ever spoken, there is a couple ancient Native American languages I don’t know, mostly because they were wiped out before I came to the ‘New World’. 
          “Okay, how about Macbeth, what do you think about it?”
          “Well it is historically accurate after all Macbeth would have killed his predecessor and he would have been killed as well.”
          “None of you have read Shakespeare; does anyone know anything about his plays, besides Marcus and Christopher?”  Nobody raised their hands.  After an hour and half of this awful class the bell rang.  “Katyla, would you please stay a minute.” Mr. Simmons asked after I walked by his desk.  I stopped and turned around, and waited for him to speak.
          “Do you want to lead class discussion once a week for the semester?”
          “I can do that, what would you like it to be on? Would you like it on Shakespeare himself or the play?”
          “Shakespeare; how long until you graduate?”
          “I am a senior, next semester.”
          “What other classes are you sitting in on? I know you only sit in on my first class of each day.”
          “I sit in on, Biology, Chemistry, History, Political Science, Ceramics and English.”
“Okay, you better get to your next class” he turned around to get something but I had already left, and was in the next class by the time he turned back around.  I had to leave, or I would have done something I would regret, I am just not one hundred percent what that would have been. 

An Unholy Killer

UnholyKillerCover

Copyright 2002 Katherine Rochholz

Waterloo, IA

Publisher’s Note

All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No portion of this book may be reproduced by any means, mechanical, electronic, or otherwise, without first obtaining the permission of the copyright holder.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead (unless explicitly noted) is merely coincidental

An Unholy Killer

 

Prologue

A car pulls up and the door opens, the young women of ill repute gets in. There is a figure driving, their hood is up the woman can’t see the strangers face, they pull off the road after about 45 minutes, the car the woman notices is an old beater, black with no license plate but she still got in now she is wondering if it was a good idea. “Okay for full service it will be 250 dollars” the woman tells the figure. There is no response instead the figure gets out and comes around to open the door, the young woman gets out and follows the figure and says “okay it can be done here.” She is about 100 yards from the car now and notices that nobody is around if she didn’t need the money she would never have been out here, but she undresses and waits. The figure walks behind her and she heard a rustle of paper then felt a searing pain she is stabbed in the back and she screams but nobody can hear her here, she is so far away from life, she is being stabbed over and over she only hears the figure counting, wishing she had never got in the car was her last thoughts and the last thing she heard was 57… And her own scream though out the night air, which was cold so cold even though the temperature was 85 degrees. The figure walks back to the car and strips down and puts all the cloths in the back then walks over to the river and washes its hands and then walks back to the car and opens the trunk takes out a bag putting the other in and gets dressed with the clothes inside of this second bag. The figure then gets into the car and drives away, and drives for about 30 minutes and pulls to the side of the rode takes the bag of clothes out of the trunk and throws it into the bin where the homeless men are sitting, then throws in a bottle worth of lighter fluid then throws the bottle in then lights a match and throws it in. The figure then wipes down the car then throws the keys leaving it unlocked and the doors open, and then the figure walks away. About an hour later the figure would be seen getting into a car parked at a local store but nobody was around to see the figure enter into a 4 door Pontiac grand prix. This trip took 2 hours and 55 minutes, the figure is getting better, and the last trip took an hour longer. Now for her to find her surprise.

 

An Unholy Killer Prologue

Copyright 2002 Katherine Rochholz

Waterloo, IA

Publisher’s Note

All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No portion of this book may be reproduced by any means, mechanical, electronic, or otherwise, without first obtaining the permission of the copyright holder.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead (unless explicitly noted) is merely coincidental

An Unholy Killer

Prologue

A car pulls up and the door opens, the young women of ill repute gets in. There is a figure driving, their hood is up the woman can’t see the strangers face, they pull off the road after about 45 minutes, the car the woman notices is an old beater, black with no license plate but she still got in now she is wondering if it was a good idea. “Okay for full service it will be 250 dollars” the woman tells the figure. There is no response instead the figure gets out and comes around to open the door, the young woman gets out and follows the figure and says “okay it can be done here.” She is about 100 yards from the car now and notices that nobody is around if she didn’t need the money she would never have been out here, but she undresses and waits. The figure walks behind her and she heard a rustle of paper then felt a searing pain she is stabbed in the back and she screams but nobody can hear her here, she is so far away from life, she is being stabbed over and over she only hears the figure counting, wishing she had never got in the car was her last thoughts and the last thing she heard was 57… And her own scream though out the night air, which was cold so cold even though the temperature was 85 degrees. The figure walks back to the car and strips down and puts all the cloths in the back then walks over to the river and washes its hands and then walks back to the car and opens the trunk takes out a bag putting the other in and gets dressed with the clothes inside of this second bag. The figure then gets into the car and drives away, and drives for about 30 minutes and pulls to the side of the rode takes the bag of clothes out of the trunk and throws it into the bin where the homeless men are sitting, then throws in a bottle worth of lighter fluid then throws the bottle in then lights a match and throws it in. The figure then wipes down the car then throws the keys leaving it unlocked and the doors open, and then the figure walks away. About an hour later the figure would be seen getting into a car parked at a local store but nobody was around to see the figure enter into a 4 door Pontiac grand prix. This trip took 2 hours and 55 minutes, the figure is getting better, and the last trip took an hour longer. Now for her to find her surprise.