Hers part 1
Almost everyone in this hushed town was aware of the iniquitous sins dripping through every home, sewage system and court house...
It was only last weekend when the sheriff found the missing body of Chase Smith, an all star A+ student who was filthy rich. His frozen limbs were discovered on his front porch, reports claim he was intoxicated and slipped. I know the nastier details because my father has been having intense deep conversations with his coworkers about it for the past six hours. He’s gathering information to send back to the head of federal investigation bureau in Washington, DC. We arrived from Georgia almost a week and a half ago. My father only allowed himself a three week vacation before taking another contract here in Minnesota.
It’s the first week of my 20th birthday. My soft honey locks are in two low pigtails, perfectly framing my lace baby doll top and my black pleated short skirt that reaches the middle of my thighs. While my dads focusing on solving crime, I’m going to solve the mystery of my growling stomach and pick my dad something up while I’m out there. I tie a black silk bow around each pigtail that falls right above my breast crease then put on my black ballet flats. Walking out the door excited to find some local tourist attractions I throw my busy father a “Going out! Be back in 3!” then venture into the midwestern woods. I almost feel like red riding hood by the way the woods cover our cabin in a curving pattern.
My father says the solitary lifestyle allowed him to work quietly without constant distractions. But I loved it for other reasons, like the way birds rest on branches in the morning, deer tend to walk through our front driveway, bunnies and chipmunks bask in the sunlight. It reminds me of when I had a place to call home, I softly smiled to myself as I follow the dirt path on my bicycle to the town. I don’t have any friends here yet but I plan on befriending the locals. Goosebumps cover my arms as I realize summer in the Midwest is viscerally different than back home. Maybe this town will be better for me.
I finally come across the first shop in town that me and my dad visited upon our arrival, walking in smells of wood and melting wax. The clerks man welcomes me with a warm smile that reaches his green eyes, the first thing I’ve always watched in people with close intent. The first betrayal I experienced was by dead piercing eyes. My mind wanders back to those dark pitch black eyes that would lock you in place. Subconsciously, I pull my fingers along the etching of carved wood, dream catchers flow gently as a breeze catches it, my breathing evening out as I let my eyes wander across this cozy little shops various treasures. I eventually catch my eyes on a leather notebook made of deer hide, a sweet albino coloring and a pearl button sewn into it. I pick it up examining the soft feeling, I wonder who could’ve had the cruelty in them to kill such a sweet beautiful innocence.
Not wanting it to be wasted, I add it to the wooden shopping basket along with a small bag of bones and small bone knife. I take them to the front of the shop before standing behind someone buff carrying a set of large velvety bloody antlers. Examining their arms, I notice their covered in glistening sweat and mostly muscle, I'm still shocked staring by their biceps size when I realize the clerks man has said my name several times. The stranger moves to the side with a deadpan expression. It’s evident that I was embarrassingly obviously staring at this stranger so I quickly move up avoiding eye contact.
I place my items on the counter and nervously play with my skirts hem, standing not even a full five inches away from the stranger, I feel their eyes brisk from my face to my breast and landing on my thighs where my hand plays. Suddenly I'm hit with the smell of pine trees and leather. Which makes sense seeing he's wearing a camouflage jacket and durable, heavy-duty matching pants. My cheeks feel hot and flushed as he keeps staring with his brows low. The strange man adjusts his arm holding the antlers to give me room.
After taking my payment the clerks man slides the receipt into my bag "Have a wonderful day, Cosette" he said, his wrinkled hands back to clearing the smudges off his glasses. I smile, "Thanks, Finley," grabbing my bag off the counter. "Nice to see you again, get some rest."
He nods silently. Walking away I hear the clerks man saying “It's a great pleasure to have you protecting our woods, Saxon.” I turn around once more before walking out the door and catch his piercing ice-blue gaze. The corner of his mouth ticks upwards and turns back to the clerks man. "I'm just doing my part." He responds in a deep low voice.
I decide to venture on foot for the rest of my trip, my father’s monthly salary was very little. So, for more than half my life I've ventured on foot place to place, the other half on a bicycle. Every shop is open now, windows spanning open wide to assist the buildings outdated poor cooling system. The people of this town enjoyed tradition, almost keeping everything how the settling families left it to them. Strangely enough almost every family out in these dark pine forests could afford the best air conditioning systems in the state. However during these summers they choose to travel to this place of hauntings.
Watching my feet fall in front of each other as I walk, my thought deepens into worrying how I’ll convince my father to take a mental break. The various contracts he’s been taking back to back has slowly dissolved what little mental clarity he’s had left. Late at night, I hear him ruffling through our luggage, checking, double-checking, even triple checking cards and notebooks. Almost as if he might disappear… I shake my head cursing myself for even thinking something so insidious. I feel a cold shiver down my spine as I walk past a brick old tall clock-tower. A strange man tall and pale standing at the top right below the rusted clock. Squinting harder trying to understand what he intends to do. He pushes himself to stand up on both legs.
My eyes widen in horror, watching the cloak he’s wearing blow harshly against the breeze. He moves one leg in front of him and his body falls limply as he steps off… My jaw clenches as I tensely grab onto the tree I'm walking under almost mechanically attempting to ground myself. As he hits the ground the fog covers any evidence left and crows fly away scattering the white skies. I stand quietly, noticing the towns people walking past, no one to check on the old man. Rushing over, i slowly realize there isn't blood splatter like in the other crime scenes I've seen. There wasn’t even a body to leave a crime scene.
Confusion spirals my head and I feel the light brighten intensely before the clock strikes 12:00 pm. I fall back from the sheer white hitting my eyes. I realize I've been gone all morning and I need to quicken my pace with dinner for me and my father. I'm still shaken a bit but decide to take a stop by the bakery for small sandwiches and home cooked stew ingredients. Wincing from pain I glance down to push one sock to my ankle. My knee is scratched up, leaving some blood on the hem of my skirt. The sight of red makes my stomach flip and I'm back in my father's office. Black and white, squared, small photo cards are thumbtacked to a board. Little air ventilation however the room is so chilled and dark. Several weapons splayed out on the floor. Each with a description on how a killer would massacre their victims. I gulp harshly then walk towards my bike one sock is scrunched down to my ankle the other left right above my knee. My two bags filled with trinkets I bought in this eerie town. Pushing my bike with my arms I walk to the bakery. The heavy scent of pine and oncoming rain clung to his hunting jacket as he stood motionless under the light pole across the street. It's him. His winter ice eyes locked onto mine. My breath hitches and suddenly I want to be closer...
