Ward was pacing nervously. After he’d seen the yearbook, he had shown it to the superintendent and gone home shortly after. The superintendent had not known what to do, and had told Scott to remain calm. He was trying his best to stay calm, but until now the killer had left no trail, and it had been out of luck that Ward had remembered who Huffman was. He knew that his time was limited, and he had to act fast to catch the murderer. He dialed the superintendent’s number and waited for the phone to start ringing.
“Yes, who is it?” Answered the colonel.
“It’s Ward. Listen, I want to catch Huffman immediately. We need to find out where he is before he takes any more lives. Could you get on that?”
“Already on it, actually. We’ve also sent in some evidence to get it checked for fingerprints. Still waiting for the results. I’ll keep you updated on that.”
“Okay. Could you contact the people who handle national flights and check to see if he’s gone somewhere? Also, I want to get a surveillance team on Huffman’s apartment as soon as possible.”
“How many men do you want?”
“Give me five, and I’ll be on the team as well.”
“I’ll get on it.”
The colonel called him later to inform him that the team would surround Huffman’s apartment the next morning. It would be a covert mission, as Ward had requested. He didn’t want Huffman to know they were on his trail.
The next morning, Ward got up at eight and began to get ready. He was nervous, but he was hoping that they could catch Huffman that day. Perhaps he had just got out the day before and hadn’t come home until late at night. In any case, they’d be watching his apartment for a few days to check for any unusual activity.
He met the team and ten, and he began to send out orders to the five men to watch the apartment from different places. There would be one man positioned on each corner surrounding the apartment. They would all be in different types of cars, so as to not draw any attention, and would each be equipped with a set of binoculars and a walkie-talkie. The last of the men would be positioned directly across the street from the apartment, accompanied by Ward. They had all been given orders to contact Ward immediately if they either noticed any unusual activity in or surrounding the building or if they saw Huffman. They had all been given a full description of the man and a picture to be able to distinguish him.
Ward was in a car with a man named Robert Carter, whom was to accompany him as co-leader of the mission. They were both quiet for a long while, until boredom eventually caught up with them.
“So who exactly is this man we’re looking for?” Asked Robert casually.
“We, at least I, believe he is the murderer of a series of killings that have been popping up lately.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Well, I’ve known the man since high school, I’ve seen him live through hell and I’ve witnessed the countless beatings he’d had to endure all through high school, at the fault of my school’s jocks.”
“So there was a connection between the murders? Or how did you come to this epiphany in the first place?
“Yes, there was a connection. All of the victims had gone to my high school, and they’d all been either perpetrators of the cause of Huffman’s severe malaise and torture, or part of the herd which had ignited the fire in the first place.”
“I’ve heard that story too many times. You know, high school isn’t as easy as some people seem to think. I’ve seen more than five handfuls of kids in my last years in high school go through hell, and I gotta tell you, it certainly didn’t look easy to have had to put up with that. Worst part is they never did anything about it, nor did the school.” He paused for a moment, and Scott caught a glimpse of empathy in Carter’s eyes. “And while all this is happening, only thing I’m wonderin’ is, where are those stupid parents anyway? I mean, sure, one’s gotta learn to defend oneself, but they also have parents for a reason.”
“Sure,” said Ward blatantly.
“Me, I’m lucky to have had a relatively peaceful high school career, with the occasional slur or misunderstanding once in a while, as to be expected--nothing more, though. I feel quite grateful, actually. Those victims seem to come out quite scarred more often than not. Proof? This case right here. Supposing, of course, that Huffman is, in fact, the real killer--and I’m not suggesting any doubt on my part either, but you know, I’m just sayin’.”
Yes, you’re just sayin’, thought Ward. Quit sayin’ already.
After rambling on for twenty more minutes, Carter finally stopped talking, at the relief of Scott. Yet, still no call from the other team members.
“Hand me the binoculars,” Ward nodded to the binoculars resting on the backseat of the car.
He fixed the zoom on them, to have a clear view of Huffman’s apartment, and looked through the lenses. There was no activity whatsoever coming from anywhere in the building. Huffman was obviously still not home, nor anywhere near the place. Ward was beginning to lose hope as quickly and briefly as it had come.
“Still no sign of the man,” sighed Scott.
“We’ll wait here all day if we have to, we’ll be on his tail soon enough,” said Robert.
Ward didn’t respond. He didn’t care for needless chit-chat. Meanwhile, his head was churning over at the thought of not catching Huffman in time to save enough lives. He began to panic, and quickly his mind became a whirl of thoughts and worst-case-scenarios. Perhaps, he thought, I went completely wrong on this one. Maybe while I’m too busy worrying about when he’ll show up, he’s worrying about when he’ll get to kill me. Maybe he’s actually on my tail, and this is all just a game of cat and mouse. Except I’m the mouse. Suddenly, his phone rang. It was the superintendent.
“Detective,” he stuttered, “I’ve got bad news.”
NEWS
I'm not going to be posting any more chapters, as I'm nearing the end of the story and, well, I like to spite people. I'll be finishing the first draft soon, and I'll let it sit for a while before starting on the second (and hopefully final) draft. I'll post that one later when it's completely done and all polished up.
-SmithMetal84
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Happy 2012
Well yeah, happy 2012! For those of you that have read what I've posted so far, I appreciate it. I'll continue writing and I'll finish the detective story soon enough. After that I'll post more short stories every now and then, so stay tuned if you've enjoyed what you've read so far. I'm positive that the next story I write won't be mystery... shit's irritating. But whatever, I've had a pretty good time writing what I have so far.
Anyways, stay tuned for more chapters in the detective story. School for me starts next week, so I won't be putting up chapters as often as I'd like to, and haven't been able to put many things up the past few weeks either cause I've been pretty busy what with Christmas and silently judging my family as they pray to their lost savior, and then New Year's, and yeah. But I'll still continue writing, so stay tuned if you're interested in reading the ending to the detective story.
-SmithMetal84
Anyways, stay tuned for more chapters in the detective story. School for me starts next week, so I won't be putting up chapters as often as I'd like to, and haven't been able to put many things up the past few weeks either cause I've been pretty busy what with Christmas and silently judging my family as they pray to their lost savior, and then New Year's, and yeah. But I'll still continue writing, so stay tuned if you're interested in reading the ending to the detective story.
-SmithMetal84
Detective Story - Chapter Five - First Draft
“What?” Ward asked, surprised.
“You heard me right. We have another body.”
“And you think that it’s related somehow to our case?”
“Well, it was found in the same fountain we found the first body in. I was going to call you, but I didn’t want to pester you. I sent the body to the coroner, and he confirmed that the man had been drowned. I’m certain it’s related to our case.”
“In any case, that’s irrelevant now. What were you able to get on Tom Huffman?”
“I was able to get a warrant to search his home for clues relating to the murders. We need to get on it fast.”
“Just out of curiosity, how old was the man who died?”
“He was about your age, and I believe he was your peer when you were a senior in high school.”
“Not surprised. Who called the station to inform you of the body?”
“We don’t know, it was an anonymous call. Again.”
“I’m aware that I’m pointing out the obvious here, but all of this is clearly not a coincidence. I’d really like to know who that caller was. He might be Tom, or he might be someone else that we’re not aware of but who might be the actual killer.”
“We’ve tried to tracking the calls down, but have come up with nothing. At any rate, our top priority is to search through Tom Huffman’s apartment. Meet me at his apartment in one hour, I’ll email the address to you.” He hung up.
They needed to find Huffman quickly; more bodies were sure to come. He already knew Huffman was after the bullies who had tormented him in high school. There had been countless numbers of bullies, and Scott knew that Huffman’s job wouldn’t be over until he had had his revenge on the last of them.
He checked his email, found the one sent by the colonel, and wrote the address down on a slip of paper. After doing this, he went outside, got in his car, and drove off quickly. The address was of an apartment somewhere around Maryland, about an hour’s drive from where Scott lived.
While he drove, he was thinking of who else had bullied Huffman in high school. He was remembering some of the things they had done to him; at times the pranks had been mild, but others they had been much worse. He remembered that there were times they made him drink water out of toilets in the boys’ bathroom, or when they devised small plans to try to break his arm, leg, foot, and so on. Many times the bullies had actually gone through with said plans, and Tom had come out with broken bones. His parents hadn’t helped him at all; Scott knew that they had divorced long ago and had gone their separate ways, leaving Tom alone to live with his grandparents, who hadn’t tried to help either. The school had never realized how bad the situation was, and oftentimes the bullies would get away with their pranks.
Of course, Scott could relate to Huffman; both of their childhoods had been very lonely. However, while Scott had never had any actual friends, he remembered that in high school Huffman had had one friend. His friend hadn’t tried stopping the bullies from harassing Tom, as he too was very small and couldn’t do anything about it, but Scott recalled seeing him by his side in times of need. He couldn’t remember his name.
Before he knew it, he was arriving at Tom Huffman’s address. After waiting for about five minutes, the superintendent showed up and greeted him.
“Hello, Scott.” They shook hands.
Without saying a word, they went inside the building and walked upstairs to Huffman’s apartment. Ward knocked on the door. There was no response. He knocked again. Still no response. One of the policemen they were being accompanied by kicked the door down and they went inside.
The apartment was small and had little furniture in any of the rooms. The crew searched thoroughly through everything. They turned over the chairs, the tables, took out the drawers, searched through his closet, through his kitchen, but found nothing. This went on for several minutes until Scott found something quite peculiar in the Huffman’s bedroom.
It was a yearbook, laying open haphazardly on Huffman’s bed. In it the page was turned to the senior class. Scott looked through the pages, and he noticed that on some of them, several names were circled with a red marker. There were three names that had already been crossed out in big X’s, and there were many more names that were circled. Scott knew what this meant. He continued flipping through the pages; there were over thirty names he came across that were also circled. They were all the names of Huffman’s former tormentors.
As he continued flipping through the pages, he came across something that made him stop dead in his tracks
The name Scott Ward was circled.
“You heard me right. We have another body.”
“And you think that it’s related somehow to our case?”
“Well, it was found in the same fountain we found the first body in. I was going to call you, but I didn’t want to pester you. I sent the body to the coroner, and he confirmed that the man had been drowned. I’m certain it’s related to our case.”
“In any case, that’s irrelevant now. What were you able to get on Tom Huffman?”
“I was able to get a warrant to search his home for clues relating to the murders. We need to get on it fast.”
“Just out of curiosity, how old was the man who died?”
“He was about your age, and I believe he was your peer when you were a senior in high school.”
“Not surprised. Who called the station to inform you of the body?”
“We don’t know, it was an anonymous call. Again.”
“I’m aware that I’m pointing out the obvious here, but all of this is clearly not a coincidence. I’d really like to know who that caller was. He might be Tom, or he might be someone else that we’re not aware of but who might be the actual killer.”
“We’ve tried to tracking the calls down, but have come up with nothing. At any rate, our top priority is to search through Tom Huffman’s apartment. Meet me at his apartment in one hour, I’ll email the address to you.” He hung up.
They needed to find Huffman quickly; more bodies were sure to come. He already knew Huffman was after the bullies who had tormented him in high school. There had been countless numbers of bullies, and Scott knew that Huffman’s job wouldn’t be over until he had had his revenge on the last of them.
He checked his email, found the one sent by the colonel, and wrote the address down on a slip of paper. After doing this, he went outside, got in his car, and drove off quickly. The address was of an apartment somewhere around Maryland, about an hour’s drive from where Scott lived.
While he drove, he was thinking of who else had bullied Huffman in high school. He was remembering some of the things they had done to him; at times the pranks had been mild, but others they had been much worse. He remembered that there were times they made him drink water out of toilets in the boys’ bathroom, or when they devised small plans to try to break his arm, leg, foot, and so on. Many times the bullies had actually gone through with said plans, and Tom had come out with broken bones. His parents hadn’t helped him at all; Scott knew that they had divorced long ago and had gone their separate ways, leaving Tom alone to live with his grandparents, who hadn’t tried to help either. The school had never realized how bad the situation was, and oftentimes the bullies would get away with their pranks.
Of course, Scott could relate to Huffman; both of their childhoods had been very lonely. However, while Scott had never had any actual friends, he remembered that in high school Huffman had had one friend. His friend hadn’t tried stopping the bullies from harassing Tom, as he too was very small and couldn’t do anything about it, but Scott recalled seeing him by his side in times of need. He couldn’t remember his name.
Before he knew it, he was arriving at Tom Huffman’s address. After waiting for about five minutes, the superintendent showed up and greeted him.
“Hello, Scott.” They shook hands.
Without saying a word, they went inside the building and walked upstairs to Huffman’s apartment. Ward knocked on the door. There was no response. He knocked again. Still no response. One of the policemen they were being accompanied by kicked the door down and they went inside.
The apartment was small and had little furniture in any of the rooms. The crew searched thoroughly through everything. They turned over the chairs, the tables, took out the drawers, searched through his closet, through his kitchen, but found nothing. This went on for several minutes until Scott found something quite peculiar in the Huffman’s bedroom.
It was a yearbook, laying open haphazardly on Huffman’s bed. In it the page was turned to the senior class. Scott looked through the pages, and he noticed that on some of them, several names were circled with a red marker. There were three names that had already been crossed out in big X’s, and there were many more names that were circled. Scott knew what this meant. He continued flipping through the pages; there were over thirty names he came across that were also circled. They were all the names of Huffman’s former tormentors.
As he continued flipping through the pages, he came across something that made him stop dead in his tracks
The name Scott Ward was circled.
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