The Wolf
One, two, three, four, five … blur into black lines as the blades of the fan above me spin faster and faster. I smile. It’s a smile of victory. I have my Red. She’s finally mine. The last trophy. The last name on my hit list. The list that’s drawn in red lipstick on the dusty wall beside me. I can’t help rolling my head and running my eyes over each name.
Daisy Malone
Cheryl Riddell
Donna Martin
Sarah Pilcher
Christina Monroe
Elizabeth Shanks
Lillian Catcher
Alethia Warren
Stacey Seymore-Beth
Octavia Legend
Anastasia Daughtry
Katy Hodges
Morgan Banks
It’s truly a beautiful sight. Every strike through the twelve separate lines spell out my accomplishments. They also reassure me of my power, my endurance and my strength. “Huh.” They all doubted my intelligence. “You’ll become nothing. You’re nothing.” That’s what she said. The dumb fucking bitch whose eyes were the first to glaze over at my hand. I’ll never find a more beautiful sight as the one a woman expresses just before her last breath leaves her. It’s a mixture of fear, fight and realisation … it’s intoxicating.
It only took two footsteps to catch her. Two. Dumb bitch should have seen me coming. I gave her the chance. I made sure those two footsteps counted and could be heard amongst the leaves. I’m a night stalker. My feet only make a sound when I allow them to, and I like to give my prey one final warning. One final chance. I’m in control of the game. I’m a hunter. I’m a wolf. I’m savage, but I’m also fair.
The early morning is the quietest. Nobody knows about these parts in this bushland. Well, if they do, they haven’t dared step foot here. I’ve not seen a single soul in this area since I’ve owned this cabin and come to frequent here for the last five years. Well, not a single soul apart from my gamers. But they aren’t here by choice, no, they’re here because I decided they deserved their punishment. I laugh. It’s forceful and pleasing. These thoughts swirling through my head are the only ones to cause me such laughter.
The smell of wet bark and composted leaves wafts through the open window and it’s what makes this place home. Sometimes I’m lucky and I get the drifting fumes of a decaying animal that’s been taken by another much larger, stronger and smarter animal than it. Other times I reward myself with the scent of decaying human flesh, but that only happens after I kill. I wait to bury my Reds. I wait because I want to play with the law. I give them a shot to do their jobs. They fail, miserably.
It’s Detective Astin West’s chance to challenge me this time. Dumb bastard. He has no idea all these bodies are buried in his area. He has no idea any of them were even reported missing, I’m sure. Or that their faces are still plastered across flyers offering rewards and information of their whereabouts. If only each law enforcement agency spoke to the other then they could’ve figured this out a long time ago and Morgan would be safe and sound tucked tightly into her bed.
I’m giving West his chance this time, because I’ve taken one of his residents, from his town, and apart from my first victim, Morgan Banks is the only person who has been associated with me for a significant period, and the only person who has been snatched from Rockhampton. All my other trophies were just little vixens who thought they could lie, cheat and steal from me during my travels. It’s a gift to work for a place that allows you a hefty business account. It also works in my favour that women are so fucking greedy. You promise them the world with all the fine trimmings and they’ll follow you anywhere. Even to a cabin in thick bushland. Women are fucking stupid. Didn’t their daddies teach them not to talk to strangers? A bellowing laugh projects from my throat at this thought. They are so fucking brainless. Dick, money and jewellery, that’s all they want. Love? Nope. They don’t want love. They want dick, money and jewellery, and that’s what gets them killed.
I can hear her sobs as I look through the screen of the television set up at the end of my bed. Red’s curled into a tight ball and rocking on her arse. How pathetic. She was writing before, I honestly thought that stubborn wench wouldn’t have written a thing, and I’d have finished our game this morning. It seems she might have proved me wrong. She wrote just like she was ordered to. I’m happy about this outcome. I’m happy because we get to move onto step two.
DA-DA-DA-DA-DA.
Times up. The sound of the alarm is like music to my ears. I curl my right hand around the face of my watch and switch off the timer. One hour has passed. Red’s allocated time for her first task has come to an end.
Rising into a seated position, I stare at her coiled posture as she rocks on the slab, and I smile. Game on. Twisting my neck, it cracks loosening me up. I puff out my chest and pop my sternum simultaneously. I’m ready to battle. The black ski mask is just to my side. I take no time to slip it over my head and roll it down my face. It’s tight to my neck and as I adjust its positioning, my finger brushes the top button on my black hunting shirt … it’s come undone again. What the fuck is going on with this fucking shirt? I’m quick to rectify the situation and slide the small button through the buttonhole. My arms strain against the soft mattress as I scoot on my arse to the end of the bed. Tilting the camera, I press the stop button on the remote beside it. The music is mute. Lights. Camera. Action.
“Red, oh, Red.” Taunting her is heaven.
She doesn’t shift from her position, and stays huddled on the floor.
“Where am I, Red?”
Her sobs grow louder.
“Now, Now. It’s just words on paper. Nothing to be crying about. You don’t have love in your heart anyways. You’re a monster.”
Her head rises so slowly it irks me. We have much to do and she’s wasting my precious time. I thump my hand against the wooden end of the bed frame creating a harsh noise and she jumps. That’s better.
Her big brown eyes are glazed, wide and swollen red –– they match the colour and size of her busted lips. I like it. There are so many lines streaked through the dried mud caked to her face; she takes the form of a lost and neglected doll. I like this too. Some of her hair is matted into a massive bird nest on one side of her head. It almost seems as if the strands have morphed into thick straw. I’m pleased. Her exterior now matches her interior … disgusting.
“Please let me go home.” She’s not begging. She’s not whining. It’s a forced and strong request. Oh, we have a little fire in the belly. I’m impressed. I keep my eyes focused on hers and delay the shake of my head.
Her middle finger rises as if being controlled by a winding crank. I fight the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth and glare at her. Sliding my hand across the sheet, I locate the remote and pause her image.
She’ll never hear me coming. She’ll never know I’m behind her. It will be a sudden pinch in her neck and … I click my fingers. Her light will go out. Sleep tight, Red.