Hunchback Hindley

11:41PM

Law Road usually wasn't this busy during a Tuesday afternoon. It was sort of annoying that Detective Larson had to interrupt his personal time to arrive at the site that Officer Davis was calling him too.

Law Road in particular had crossed a couple of popular towns in Apple County, and of course, Malus had to be one of them. It was even more suspicious when the crime scene had taken place outside of Sesame Castle, an amusement park in Malus.

I'm surprised that Sesame Castle wasn't closed down after all this time. Come to think of it, that place has the potential to have more crime than even Chicago thirty or more years ago. It's odd, isn't it?

Larson got out of his car. He was parked on the right lane of Law Road and could tell from where he was standing that Officer Davis wasn't going to have anything new to tell him other than the basics.

Larson walked up to Davis and tapped him on the shoulder.

"What gives?" Larson asks.

Davis shrugged. He shakes his head in disappointment while he stares at the body that was right below him.

"I don't know what to think anymore. Where do you think the murderer could've gone?" Davis asks.

Larson kneeled close to the body. By the looks of it, it seemed like a quick and painless death, something that only an experienced and possibly trained killer could've done. Larson could tell the difference at this stage of his career.

"No clue on where the killer headed. Your men are also looking anyway. If I were to guess, I'd say Hunchback Hindley might've done this. That's what I think." Larson said.

Davis looked at Larson in a funny way, almost as if he were crazy.

"We have multiple killers on the loose and Hindley was the last one on my mind. Well, if you think so, then you know the best measurements to catch him I suppose?" Davis asked.

Larson nodded while putting his hands in his pockets, still staring at the body, who he now identified was a 5'9-forty-year-old man named Gregory Steson.

"The man probably had children who he took to Sesame Castle, given that it's not far from here. Also, knowing Hindley, he definitely murdered the children if he caught them." Larson said.

"Hey, L, do you believe in God? Not just the Christian, Jewish, or Muslim God, but, y'know what I mean." Davis asked.

Larson returned the favor and looked at Davis in a funny way. He sighed as he beat his foot against the ground.

"No. Not really the kind of person to believe in the supernatural or higher being, if that's where you're going. Why bring it up anyway?" Larson asked.

Davis thought about it himself, then asked another question.

"The slaughter in Crimson, what do you think of that?"

"No clue, but of course, I'm betting it has nothing to do with what's here."

"Don't jinx it now, or it really will have to do with the situation."

"Exactly. That's exactly what I want." Larson replied, smiling.

Davis smiled back.

Larson began to pick out less of Davis's team as time went on.

"Is there anything else worth checking here?" Davis asked, looking at the body of Stenson below him.

"Nope. I'm heading forward. Alert me if, y'know." Larson said.

Davis nodded.

Larson finally left Law Road and began his stroll deep into the woods.

...

Other than the occasional noises from an owl Larson would hear as he made his way through the woods, it was awfully quiet. Nevertheless, the night sky was beautiful, and it got Larson rethinking his internal motives.

Can he just continue to wake up everyday and do the same thing over and over again? Should he try something different, something that he never would've thought of trying even before he became a detective?

It's so peaceful. I see no tracks at all, other than the ones that were made by Davis's men. Maybe I've focused my efforts on the wrong place.

Larson continues to walk with his hands in his pockets. He turns to the left; a deer can be seen not far away. It's staring at him, staring directly at his soul. Larson only moves just a little bit before the deer decides to take off completely. Larson frowns.

Damn. Have to focus.

He starts looking at the ground more, especially on the side of trees. He sees nothing other than a rabbit or two. Nothing that can actually help him with what he's doing.

Maybe I'll start by going perpendicular.

He almost makes the decision to start another path but is stopped by the sight of magnificent flowers. These flowers were growing next to the tree that he had passed just a couple of seconds ago.

How did I not see these flowers? I just passed through this tree...

He slowly approaches the flowers and is amazed at the fact that they are glowing...actually glowing. They look like sunflowers but too good to be an actual flower. In a sense, they felt artificial, not real.

Larson realized that Davis's men had got off too far and now, he was alone—just him and these flowers.

Where did all of the fireflies come from?

The number of fireflies that were around him began growing exponentially, then, it stopped. There was a breaking point, it seemed.

The same moment that the number of fireflies stopped growing was the same moment that Larson had heard a small voice coming from one of the flowers. He listened more carefully. Did he actually hear what he had just heard? Or...or was he just insane?

"I can help you." It said.

No way, I have to be crazy. That flower just spoke, I swear.

He looks around to make sure no one is watching what he's doing. He didn't want to make himself look like a madman.

"What did you say?" Larson asked.

The flower moved a bit, then spoke more clearly.

"I said I can help you—help you find the killer. Who are you looking for?" The flower said.

Larson smacked himself in the face as hard as he could. He closed his eyes for some time, then opened it back up. The glowing flower was still there.

"You're not crazy, I'm real. I'm called a Peteny Flower. I come out every now and then, and my coming and going affects everything around me."

That explains the fireflies.

"So...umm...given that I'm "not" insane...yes, help me find the murderer." Larson said.

The flower nodded.

"Okay." The flower replied.

Larson raised his eyebrows.

"Are you going to give me any clues or..."

"Just rip me off from my stem."

"But...how long will you survive without being attached to your other part, or even receiving water...?"

"No need. You ask too many questions. Do you want my help or not?" The flower asked.

Larson couldn't believe it. He has gone mad. He started to wonder who had drugged him and how they managed to do it.

"Okay. I'll pull." Larson said.

He reached for the stem of the flower and quickly pulled it out of the ground.

"Ahh...that feels better..." The flower said.

"How..does that even make any sense..."

"Shhhh...okay, go that way. There should be a cabin in that direction." The flower commanded, pointing its capitulum in the direction that it wanted Larson to go.

Interestingly enough, the direction was perpendicular to where he was originally intending to continue his search.

"Can't you just tell me where the murderer is? Location wise? Not enough magic it seems?" Larson asked sarcastically.

"Patience jerk."

"Okay-okay-okay...jeez." Larson replied.

Holding the flower in his hand, Larson started walking wherever the flower guided him.

...

The cabin looked very old, so old that it might as well just burn up. The main objective wasn't the cabin though—it was the area around the cabin in which the flower was most concerned with.

Larson was barely twenty feet away from the cabin when the flower told him to look around for a latch. Why would a latch be outside of a cabin house? Why not inside the house itself?

Larson started looking. He found the latch by differentiating the texture of grass he was stepping on. Once he stepped on what looked like artificial grass, that's when he knew he had hit the jackpot.

"Sure hope the killer didn't drug me into not only picking up a talking flower, but allowing myself to go inside of their bunker." Larson said sarcastically again.

When he finally opened the latch, dust shot out. He checked his pockets for his small flashlight and took it out.

I'll tell Davis about this after I take a peek.

Larson uses his teeth to hold the flashlight in place while he descended in the bunker using the ladder, the flower, of course, still by his side.

As he descended, he took note of the decorations that were set in place. Of course, all of it looked weird because he was looking for a murderer or another connection to it.

Looks like a teenage girl's bunker.

Larson takes two steps forward, then turns to the right. Damn—speak of the Devil. There was a body there, a teenage girl's body to be specific, and it looked more messed up than the Stenson's one.

Oh, dear God.

The bodies had smelt so bad that Larson had to cover his nose.

The Stenson body is fresh while the body of the teenagers look relatively old. Could it be possible that Stenson was close to the truth only to be weeded away by the killer?

For all Larson knew, the killer could be anywhere.

"Hey, take me to your place and I'll tell you more, but don't talk to anyone about me, or I'll revert back. Got it?" The flower said.

Larson thought about it, then said: "Sure."

He took out his cell and called Davis. Five minutes later, Davis and his men arrived. By this time, Larson had already gotten all the info he needed from that bunker. They could handle the rest.

"Pitch back in if anything else pops up." Davis said as Larson walked away holding a flower in his right hand.

"You got it." Larson replied.

...

Larson was still holding the Peteny Flower in his right hand as he opened his room door. The flower didn't say anything, not even when he had entered his room and thought that it was going to say something about how much of a mess it was.

It was a good mess, though. The kind of mess that would spark new ideas on some new motives that the killer might have if they ran off.

All of this was constantly on the back of Larson's mind, and needless to say, he was still surprised that he had actually gone through with trusting a talking flower and taking it to his home. Maybe he was actually crazy.

"Hey, are you asleep, wake up. Here is some artificial light for you." Larson said as he carefully laid the flower down on his desk right underneath his desk lamp.

"Thanks." The flower replied.

"Umm...sure. Now, what else should I know about the killer?"

"His name is Hunchback Hindley. He went to jail for sex-trafficking, but managed to escape. Somehow, he made his way in Apple County." The flower said.

Larson brushed his hair with his hands. He had already taken his jacket and shoes off to get more comfortable.

"Alright, but I already know all of that. More specifically, why Apple County?"

"Not even I know. I can only tell you what He tells me." The flower replied.

Larson was confused.

"He? Who's He?"

"He won't tell me that either."

"..." Larson replied.

Seriously? Hmm...

Larson went over the files again. Earlier, he was thinking that maybe his assumption about Hunchback Hindley being the killer was wrong, but now that this talking flower seemed to know about him, he had some more ideas to work with.

"Give me a location or a pinpoint. Where would Hunchback Hindley be right now? Who is he working with? Anything?" Larson asked.

The flower didn't reply. Larson was about to go to the bathroom until it said: "The Gunther Hotel. That's where Hunchback Hindley is going. That's all I can say. He won't tell me anything else."

Larson thought about it for a moment as he fidgeted with his pen.

"No way. No disguise is going to hide him. When will he go there?"

"At approximately 4:13AM." The flower replied.

Larson checked his watch: 1:30AM.

Hunchback Hindley was probably going to be crossing through the Hotel to meet up with someone nearby. He highly doubted that he would actually go in. He had about two and a half hours to catch him. Should he go alert Officer Davis about this?

Hunchback Hindley might find it suspicious if there's too many people outside on the site. If anything, I'll have to go solo. I could keep Davis on the line though. That could work.

"Are you sure about this info?" Larson asked.

The flower didn't reply. Larson sighed. He took out his phone and called Officer Davis.

Shit, looks like I'm heading back out.

...

Larson was parked in the Gunther Hotel parking lot. The flower was still with him of course, and he was beginning to think that he might actually catch a skilled killer due to communicating with a flower. How unbelievable was that?

Still don't see him anywhere. It's 1:25AM right now, so he should be appearing soon in about five minutes. That's when I make my move.

On his right side, he had his cell on. Officer Davis was on the line, waiting for him to say something of course. Waiting for him to say that he had finally seen him.

"I sense his presence nearby." The flower said.

Larson nodded. He checked his handgun and lifted his head up. It was now 1:30, and still, he saw no one. Maybe Hunchback Hindley was on the other side. If that was the case, then Larson would have to get out of the vehicle right now and get moving.

He opened his car door and looked everywhere. Hunchback Hindley was still nowhere to be seen.

Shit...maybe...

Larson felt something hit the back of his head and everything turned black.

...

A clicking sound was nearby. Where was it coming from? Larson slowly opened his eyes but realized that even after he had opened them, it was still very dark. Most importantly, he felt claustrophobic. Could he have been stuck inside of a coffin with no way out?

Oh, dear God. I feel someone underneath me. Holy shit, it's actually a dead body...

Larson could tell, of course, because of the smell. He tried reaching for his pocket to see if he still had his handgun. He didn't. In matter of fact, he practically didn't have anything—even the peteny flower.

I knew it. There's no way I could've been talking to a flower. It wasn't real to begin with. Who knows how long I've been here. I hope it wasn't more than a couple of hours, because then I would have little time before I start to suffocate...

Larson starts thinking. He doesn't have anything to break open the coffin, and even if he did, he didn't have a lighter or anything that he could've used to see.

I might just be screwed.

Then, he heard something else: glass shattering. So he wasn't six-feet-under, but instead, he was in a coffin room. Hunchback Hindley sure was evil.

Larson continued listening and eventually heard the locks on the coffin break. He was even more confused when the coffin had opened itself up. He quickly sat up and took in the fresh air. While he was doing so, he watched the vines go back outside. So, was it the vines that had freed him?

No time to speculate. I'm free and Hindley is a dead man.

Larson walked up to the door and tried opening it. It was locked. He looked for anything in the room that could be of use to him and found a brick. He picked the brick up and bashed it against the door knob. He then kicked open the door and analyzed his surroundings. He was at a cemetery.

...

The cemetery was cold, way more colder than Larson would've thought. He continued his walk, but he found no way out of the cemetery. It was almost as if this cemetery had no end at all.

Davis...I can't get in contact with him, not until I make it out of this cemetery.

Larson was about to turn around and start walking in the other direction, but as he was looking down, he saw a bunch of fireflies come out along with the mist that was surrounding him. All of this felt unnatural—was it a set-up?

Larson heard footsteps behind him. He quickly turned around and saw that it had been Hunchback Hindley, pointing his own handgun at him, except, of course, he wasn't actually a hunchback.

The main reason why he was called Hunchback Hindley had to do with him acting like a hunchback before he snuck on his victims and killed them. Those things in this day and age shouldn't even be possible to execute effectively without being guaranteed that you will get it, but Hunchback Hindley somehow managed to make it all happen.

"Made a deal with the devil. Figured a guy like you would be easy to trick, as well as your other men too." Hindley said.

So Larson was right this entire time. He might've inhaled something that he shouldn't have, which caused him to believe that he was actually talking to a talking flower.

Seriously? None of it was real? I know it was expected but...

"Was it something I touched? How did you manage to drug me, how? I find it almost impossible." Larson asked, keeping his hands raised.

Hindley sighed.

"That information is useless to a dead man." Hindley replied.

Larson was about to doubt that Hindley would pull the trigger, but then he saw that Hindley wasn't joking around, and of course, he had some gloves on that wouldn't leave his fingerprints on the handgun.

Hindley fired the gun, and Larson fell over.

...

Hours Later, Next Morning, Cemetery

Officer Davis had high hopes for Larson, but it looks like even Hindley had gotten the best of him. Still, he couldn't believe that Larson had been right: it was most definitely Hunchback Hindley that did this.

Around the scene were a ton of officials from every department, and they all asked the same question: How did Hindley do it this time?