Chapter 1
There were twelve bodies, all children between the ages of eight to twelve, all lying there, their faces disfigured as their shine was all gone. I watched as they were all given to me, to identify. To give them their faces, their names back. Nobody dared to move them from the gym floor, the school had been closed ever since the incident.
They told me about the incident, someone can into the school one morning, rounding up those twelve kids, grabbing them, throwing them in the gym, kicking everyone else out of the room. They then locked them in as they let in a poisonous gas in the air, killing them slowly.
The principal was forced to watch as the students all fell, dying as they could do nothing but watch everyone else die too. I asked who did this, but he didn’t answer, not for a minute before he said,
“I don’t know, they were dressed head to toe in black, their face covered in a white mask with only small peepholes, too small to see their eyes.”
I wrote it down as I asked him for a more detailed description of what he saw. He sighed but nodded as he then gave me the description.
He said that what they wore couldn’t distinguish what gender they were, that they were the height of around 5 foot 9 inches to 5 foot 11 inches. They were holding a knife near his neck, and they forced him to watch. They left no fingerprints, no trace, not even a voice.
I thanked him for the description as I then set to work on giving the children their names.
The first one was male, around nine years old. Dark brown hair and blue eyes, and a slightly pointed nose. I was given a list of all the students who attended there and what they looked like. This boy looked like Joseph Humbug, a third grader.
The second one was male as well but was around twelve, his skin was ebony, and his hair was almost non-existent, he seemed to have had a round face before it was all puffed up. Identifying him wasn’t that hard, there was only two kids in the fifth and sixth grade with dark skin and only one male. Fernando Luba, sixth grader.
The third one was female with long, dark, glossy hair. After careful examination, she looked around ten, her glasses were cracked. She looked as if she was trying to use her nails to escape from the window but was too weak and succumbed to death. Her nails were cracked. She was identified as Mao Park, fourth grader.
The fourth and fifth one was female, both alike twins of around eleven with their nails painted red as their hair, their clothes coming straight from a fairytale. Their arms were embraced. Together in death. They were identified quickly as Anne and May Humbug. Joseph’s sisters perhaps?
The sixth one was male, around eight or nine, whose bones were showing though his tanned skin and greasy hair. I spotted a label on his pants sticking out, showing me his name in delicate handwriting. Jesus Jones. Second grader.
The seventh one was a girl of his age, small, with angel-like hair and big blue eyes. Like a living angel except she might be now, depending on what you believe in. She had in her hand a friendship bracelet of white and blue. After a quick skim, I then named her Jenny Parker, second grader.
The eight one was a little tricky, ten years old, male, brown hair and pale skin, alike from many students on the list. His eyes were open, his mouth open with shock as death was just around the corner. Ten to eleven years of age. He was identified as Adam Flick after careful examination.
The ninth one was another male, tall, around twelve years of age with a pinched face and thin lips, his hair was neat and parted. He was sat up, unlike most of the victims and we then figured out that he was Sam Holiday.
The tenth, eleventh and twelfth was the saddest, a boy of twelve, holding two small girls, aged around ten to eleven and eight to nine whose faces were in a state of shock. The boy seemed to have his eye on the boy of his sisters. The smallest was holding on to a small teddy bear whose eyes couldn’t explain what had just happened. I didn’t identify them, the principal did after he watched me and my team work to identify them.
“That’s Ollie, Ollie and his sisters, Nelly and Dorathy. Ollie, Nelly and Dorathy Mudd- oh my god, oh my god...”
I then saw as tears came out of his eyes as he then walked away muttering, “I don’t want to- why them- why?”
That was when I realized who they were. How their father had to watch as they died. I was then given the tape of what happened, but I don’t think I’ll have the stomach to watch. But I had to... for the victims... to give them justice. I had to wipe the tears from my eyes as one of my colleges then said,
“Imogen, we’re taking the bodies back to the lab now, thank you for your work.” said Dr. Keniston as he then asked the team to take the bodies away.
I watched as they put the bodies carefully on stretchers as they were taken in vans. I watched as they prised the twins, the trio of siblings away from each other’s grip. Tears fell from my eyes as I went home.
There was the tape, my player, the old-fashioned television I couldn’t bear to part with. It was my parents when they started to live together, now their ghosts follow through the halls as only my father remains in the nursing home, just waiting for death to take him back to his wife.
I fiddled with the tape as I set up the player. I put it in and pressed play. I couldn’t imagine what horror I might see.
I saw as they were pushed into the hall, the students that were there for gym were kicked out. A figure then throwing a small suitcase at them as the door then locked.
Joseph Humbug then looked at the suitcase with much curiosity, a few students were shivering as he poked at it. He then said something to them, but Angel started to say something back. I saw them all scream as smoke filled the sky.
I saw as the twins shouted at Joseph as he tried to run to them but then he fell over, not breathing. His face, swollen, and one by one, they all met the same fate. The last one to endure that fate Dorathy, saw as her brother and sister, arms around her, now cold from death. She then hugged her bear and then mouthed something at the screen.
“Help us...”
Then she closed her eyes, as if she was going to sleep and the succumbed to death. I then turned the tape off as I recorded what happened and sent an email with the video of the tape attached to the doctor and his team. I then sighed as I only saw emptiness and pain.
I wonder what their families are doing now, that they have heard the news?
It’s times like these that I hate my job but then I got an email. I thought that it was a reply from Dr. Keniston and his team but when I saw the unknown on the name. I knew something was up. I was all set to delete it, but curiosity got to me as I then opened it.
To. Imogen Andrews ([email protected])
From. Unknown (Unknown email address)
IMOGEN ANDREWS,
I SEE YOU HAVE IDENTIFIED THE VICTIMS. GOOD JOB BUT HAVE YOU FIGURED OUT THE PATTERN. PLEASE, ANY MORE EVIDENCE YOU HAVE, EMAIL ME, NOT THE DOCTOR AND HIS TEAM... THEY WON’T UNDERSTAND WHY I DID THIS.
WHAT DO THE CHILDREN HAVE IN COMMON?
COME ON, SOLVE IT. BECUASE I’M JUST GETTING STARTED.
😊
I read this email a few times, making sure not to miss a word. I shivered as I then shut down my computer and then lay on my bed, just thinking about everything.
What did they mean? What was the pattern?
I’ll talk to Principal Mudd tomorrow. If he does want to speak to anyone during his troubled times.
-
I went to him early in the morning, when there were few people. A few members of staff recognized me and led me into his office. He was there, his head buried with paperwork, not noticing me.
“Hello Principal Mudd,” I said, “I’m sorry for this but I need to ask you a few questions.”
He then jumped and then looked at me. His eyes were red as he then started to shake,
“Oh, it’s you Ms. Andrews, is it?” He then said his eyes were not leaving his work.
I then nodded as I then sat down on the chair in front of him. I knew that it was an unimaginable time for him. But the case was still open. I then looked at him and then said,
“We’re trying to find out why the killer chose these particular children. To see if there is any link between them, do you know any Principal Mudd?”
He then jumped at my question and stopped his work. He still didn’t look at me, but I could tell that he was thinking. Deeply. But after a few minutes and so, he then muttered back to me,
“No, not really, not that I know of Ms. Andrews. I’m sorry but your time is wasted with me. But I’ll try and look, if it’ll help- I guess...”
He then sighed as he buried his head back into the books, not giving me a second thought. I thanked him for his time, as I knew that he didn’t have any more information about the patterns. I wandered around the town for a few minutes as I could see the children’s photos in the newspapers. All on the front page. All with different titles.
CHILD MURDER IN GAS: SCHOOLS NOT SAFE ANYMORE?
TEN STUDENTS ALL DROWNED IN GAS, IN THEIR OWN SCHOOL!
DEATHS IN SCHOOL, WHAT CREATURE COULD HAVE DONE THIS CRIME?
THREE CHILDREN OF PRINCIPAL +7 MORE DIED IN FREAK ACCIDENT: OFFICALS SAYS SCHOOLS ARE STILL SAFE!
I guess that I’m glad that they didn’t show disfigured faces. Just their last school photos of them smiling, not knowing that for them, childhood would be forever.
I had to use all my energy not to cry for them. I could see people, reading the front pages, whispers filled the air. A few might have been crying but they were sure doing a good job of hiding it. Maybe a few were parents of the fallen. But some were whispering about the killer,
“What a psycho,” one said, “killing twelve kids and making a father watch his children die.”
“I hope they catch them,” another said, “and they get the death penalty.”
“I’m homeschooling my child until all this ends and the killer is caught or killed.” a third said.
I then got a call on my phone, it was dad’s. Confusion hit me because the residents were rarely allowed to call unless something bad happened. I then answered my phone and then said,
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
