40: Trail Of Blood [1]

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Jessica's feet pressed against a puddle of water as her hobbled legs moved at their best pace.

Her eyes darted around the woods in an effort to find any hopes of escape but it only seemed the way she chose had led her deeper into the forest.

It was too late to turn around now, especially as the five minute mark had passed and she heard his voice in the distance behind her.

"Why are you scared?~."

He stepped out of the cottage, a hatchet twirling in his hands.

"What have you seen?~."

The black robes danced with the wind as he walked forward, the crossbow in his back gracefully juggling in its position.

"In the castle, with the silent roses~."

The game was on, she knew it and it encouraged her to move faster, her rage overcoming her pain, pushing her broken body to its limits.

The sound of movement in the distance, heading her way, made her start to panic, fear began to take over, the fear she thought she had forgotten, it made her look around erratically, trying to find any spots to hide.

And like a miracle, her eyes spotted a place devoid of any more trees. A way out of the forest.

As she began to regain hope, she tried to move faster but not later than a moment, an arrow hit a tree she was moving past, she looked over her shoulder and saw the man in the mask in the distance but not far, a crossbow held in his arms.

"I ask again and again~

Why are you sad?~."

He sang causally like it was a daily walk to a cafe, his finger gently hovering above the trigger as she tried to run away.

"What pain are you feeling?~."

She heard the sound as he took another shot, she stood no chance of dodging as the arrow struck her, sticking into her shoulder as she stumbled forward.

"Mrghhhhh!!!" She cried, biting her lips, trying her best to suppress the pain as she tried to get to her feet once again.

She was close, so close, barely a few feet away from the cliff, she could hear the waves crashing and even an idiot could do the math, the chances she survives the sea is probably higher than the hands of this maniac.

The arrow plunged into her shoulder and had made her left arm useless, she pushed herself with one arm and stood up at the very edge of the cliff.

The Maniac stood behind her, a few feet apart but close enough to reach her if he tried, the crossbow was back in its holster and a hunting knife replaced its place.

Her pale face reflected on the shining silver blade, the chips on its broader side deforming her reflection. The ghostface etched on the back of its handle smirking at her pain.

"What's it gonna be Jessica, my way?" He asked, pointing the dagger at him and extended it back focusing on the cliff, clearly enjoying his game more than she ever did. "Or the Highway?"

Jessica gulped as she stared at him for a moment and turned her head back towards the dive. She might have severely misjudged how high it was gonna be but it was not gonna change her mind.

"You'll never get me, you son of a bi-."

She turned back and even before she could finish her words, a cold sensation penetrated into her chest, she gasped as blood pooled out of her mouth, a pain shot into her brain and she felt her legs losing strength.

She was about to collapse into the ground but an arm wrapped around her waist and held her tightly, he pressed himself close to her and whispered into her ears.

"I know it's impermissible to halt your final revenge speech but let's be honest, we knew you were not gonna make it out." While he held her tightly, his other fist pulled out the dagger and stabbed it smoothly back into her once again.

He retreated the knife and pulled away from her, she knelt down holding her gut as blood pooled out of it.

"Show's over, Jessica."

With all the hatred she could gather, Jessica glared at him and muttered her final word.

"N-N…Never."

"Shut up." He drove his dagger straight into her skull and Spartan kicked her face. Throwing her into the ocean and she fell, gracefully like an angel out of heaven.

He smirked as he saw the red puddle in the midst of the blue and his eyes gradually rose up towards the shore at the east.

It was time Beacon Hill knew he was back, it was time 'they' knew he was back.

It was time to begin the actual show.

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[Stiles Pov]

"Mmm. Did they forget my curly fries?" He asked, already munching into the burger I got him.

"You are not supposed to eat fries, especially the curly ones." I replied back while digging into my ramen.

"Well, I'm carrying a lethal weapon, if I want the curly fries, I will have the curly fries." I deadpanned at his words and made sure to convey it to him by my cold glare.

My dad and I are not like the other single parent-kid combos, we are different, we don't have Sunday family time or church hours.

We do our best to spend the right minimum time together to make sure things don't get awkward and tonight is something of a routine for us.

The weekend takeout patrol.

I get the order, we eat together, he asks about school, I ask about his cases much to his disapproval of speaking about them, we go for patrol around the town for a few hours, then he drops me at home, from where I'll make sure to check all the cases he talked about from his computer.

The dream night for me.

"If you think getting rid of contractions in all your sentences makes your argument any more legitimate, you are wrong." He gave me an unamused side eye while I chuckled, slurping my chocolate smoothie.

"You got anything on Jessica?" I asked, placing my drink down at the holder.

He mused for a moment wondering what I meant and I clearly was not amused by his lack of awareness.

"Dark brown hair, 5 '6 tall, O positive, heart shaped face, weird smile, owns a cat named Loco?" He shook his head while narrowing his eyes.

"The girl who went missing?!" He raised his brows, remembering about her.

"Ah! You couldn't have start with that?" He grunted and I shrugged, it wasn't my fault he didn't analyze the victim clearly.

"We got her posters on all the hotspots of the town, patrol's got memo, coast guard's on the lookout but I don't think she wants to be found." I furrowed my brows at the last words.

"What do you mean by that?"

"When a person is missing for more than a week, 9 out of 10 times, it's either they are hiding or they were kidnapped." He took a deep breath. "And we haven't had a ransom call or a plea deal, so if anything, she could have switched States and moved out but we would keep up the search till we find something solid."

I nodded, that made sense but Jessica didn't seem the type to do that, she was not so well off but she was comfortable and she didn't seem to be the kind to bet that life on a whim of an adventurous teen summer.

"But what if she was trafficked?" I questioned.

"Trafficked?" He asked out loud, maybe questioning himself for a second, as he took a moment to answer.

"Yes, as per statistics ten thousand people are being trafficked out of America per month."

"Not possible." He said with rejuvenated confidence. "We ID'd every possible suspect, not one with a history of trafficking came along Beacon Hill that week."

"Yeah but what if-." Before I could finish he stopped me.

"Why are you so oddly curious about this one?" He insinuated something with that smirk of his.

"I'm not oddly curious, I'm just extremely observative." I smirked. "And don't judge me for that."

"And 'I' don't want us to spend the few moments we have, chatting about my work." His tone suddenly turned serious and I understood as I gave him a nod.

"Fine." I shut my mouth and slumped back.

If we were not talking about his cases, I don't think we have anything common to talk about.

There was a moment of silence before he broke it.

"How's school?"

Guess there is something to talk about.

"It's fine, Harris is being a rectum discharge but yeah, I'm surviving it." Ofcourse, not to mention the few werewolves running around thrashing my scheduled school life.

Nobody gets to thrash my schedules, other than me.

"And you know, I'm a starter on Lacrosse, that's something."

"Yeah." He energetically agreed. "Never thought you would play that well."

"Wow." I said dramatically with a grin. "That's some confidence you got in your son."

"You know what I mean. Sure, you got to the starting line but getting a hatrick on your first match, that's some luck and you know that too."

"Yeah, maybe." I shrugged, only if I could find something about what's happening or happened to me.

"So anything else?" He trailed.

"Like what?" I raised my brows wondering what he wanted to know about.

"Is there any girl in the survivor's life of yours?"

A few faces flashed into my mind.

Tara, Amber and Allison.

"It's uh… complicated." I brushed it off but my old man doesn't seem to leave it.

"Complicated huh? Well I only got one piece of advice for you kiddo." He sternly said, letting pause to build up the moment.

I keenly awaited as he finally spoke.

"Protection."

This fucking guy.

"Protection?" I deadpanned.

"Yes." He nodded.

"Sure." I nodded back.

"-Unit One, do you copy?-"

Finally, I let out a sigh. I couldn't handle another moment of this emotional interrogation.

The radio channeled in and just as I reached out, he slapped on my wrist and gave me a stern glare, clearing his throat.

"Sorry." I muttered.

"Unit one, copy." He answered.

"-Got a report of a possible 187-"

My eyes widened as soon as I heard the code.

"A Murder?!"