Ace
02-10-2008, 06:08 PM
Just wrote it today,
A Special Notebook
“I seem to have misplaced my notebook, Miss.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but you will just have to wait until we touch down before we can try to find it, Sir.”
“But what if one of the passengers took it while I was in the bathroom?”
“I am sure they didn’t, but if they did then we will find it when we do check-outs when the flight is over, Sir.”
“Ok, but I need that notebook, it is very important to me.”
The notebook was a plain composition notebook; the little white shapes were colored in red in some places. On the back was a red duct tape cross on a field of white duct tape. It was very special indeed.
Inside those simple pages were the addresses of almost every woman who had mysteriously disappeared in the past two years.
When seventeen year old Jeffrey picked up the notebook he thought it felt heavier than usual. When he opened it and saw the pictures of naked women fall out, he got excited and quickly jammed the pictures back into the notebook, holding it against his chest.
What Jeffrey did not know is that these women were victims. Victims of rape and, dare the notebook say, murder. The addresses had been penciled in the notebook before the women had become victims.
The addresses were from all over the United States: Missouri, Mississippi, Florida, Georgia, California, Utah, Nevada and so on.
The addresses that had been “visited” were checked off with a red pen. There were forty-three red checks. Only one address was unchecked. The address was for Hartford, Connecticut.
The plane was on its way to Bradley airport in Connecticut.
If the pictures of the women inside had been the ones of what the evil man did to them afterwards then Jeffrey would have alerted the staff of the airplane, the stewardess would have distracted the evil man with alcohol and verbal seduction, then the plane would have landed. The evil man would have been kept aboard for “luggage reasons” as everyone else left. Once the plane was empty of all other passengers, the police would have boarded the plane and arrested Henry Garrison, the evil man, at once.
Unfortunately for the woman who lived at 34 Northbrook Drive, Hartford, Connecticut, Jeffrey was unaware of what the contents of the notebook really meant.
Also an unfortunate thing for Jessica Rembrandt (the tenant of 34 Northbrook Drive) was that Henry had a copy of her address on a napkin in his left rear pocket. He did not need his notebook to find her, to sodomize her then kill her.
But, as unfortunate events kept unfolding for Jessica, an unfortunate event unfolded for Henry. His own name and address were inside the front cover. Also, his credo was written on the inside back cover. It went like this:
God has put me on this Earth to punish and oppress any woman who punishes and oppresses any man. God has given me clearance to use this notebook to find, and punish, any woman who mistreats a man, regardless of whether or not he mistreated her first. Any man who asks me for help I must help, regardless of his past. I will stop at nothing to complete the tasks God has given me. This notebook is my Life and oppressive women’s Deaths.
This was when Jeffrey became nervous and scared. He had found the notebook next to the bathroom door and simply wanted to know what was inside. He had nothing to read on his way home from New York (from Virginia) so he thought there might be something interesting inside.
He was much too right for his own good.
Jeffrey was no idiot. But he was very clumsy when he was nervous. He also began to sweat and shake uncontrollably. He pressed the button for the stewardess to come and assist him.
She came over after about two minutes.
“Excuse me, Miss, but I found this notebook and I…”
“Oh, I know whose notebook that is! It’s Mister Finche’s over there,” she said, pointing to Henry, a bald man who looked very sharp, even in his casual clothes.
“Please, keep your voice down. There is something unusual about this notebook.”
“What do you mean?”
“He has all these pictures of naked women, and all these addresses with red pen marks next to them. Also, he has one address that isn’t marked yet.”
He turned to the page with the unmarked address and gave her the notebook.
“Oh my God. This is my address!” the young stewardess exclaimed, unable to keep calm.
“Your address? What did you do to him?”
“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything to him!”
“You oppressed a man! It’s his reason for the addresses, it says so on the back inside cover!”
He showed her Henry’s credo and her face turned red with fear; her eyes wide with shock.
“I thought he was a nice man, I gave him my address on the napkin with his drink!”
“Well, he’s ****ed up Miss. You might want to tell the Captain.”
“Miss, I advise you do nothing of the sort.”
Mr. Garrison had walked up behind her and touched her gently at the waist.
“Now, you just hand me that notebook. Adda girl, gently now.”
Jessica took the notebook from Jeffrey, stiff with terror, and gave it to Mr. Garrison as gently as he was touching her.
“Now, let’s just forget about the whole thing, alright? I just wanted to meet with you and propose on doing a photo shoot, but it’s obvious you aren’t interested.”
“A photo shoot?” Jessica sobbed.
“Yes, a photo shoot. I’m Jean Paul Finche, I shoot for E-to-Z magazine and I was hoping, when you gave me your address, that you would like to model for it.”
“Well, I would have if you told me before, but not now! And I think you should give me the napkin back and erase my address from the book,” the stewardess, Jessica said through tears now dripping past her mouth.
“I understand,” Henry said as he took the napkin out of his left rear pocket and handed it to her, “I need a pencil. Happen to have one?”
“I do,” said Jeffrey as he handed Henry a pencil, “Here.”
“Thanks,” Henry erased the address, having already memorized the address before confronting the pair.
“Well, now that that’s settled, I’m going to go sit down and relax for the rest of the flight. I advise you do the same young man, and be careful with what isn’t yours.” Henry’s voice was laced with hidden malice and discontent.
“I understand, Sir. And I’m sorry.”
“Not to worry son. And you, Miss. You keep up the wonderful job you are doing. It was a pleasure meeting you; it’s just too bad you don’t want to do the shoot anymore.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Jessica stammered, wiping the tears and running mascara from her face.
“Well, I’ll see you when the plane lands then,” and Henry walked back to his seat.
There was silence between Jessica and Jeffrey.
Jeffrey broke the silence, “He seems legit.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry I got you upset and worried.”
“No problem, it was a good thing of you to do, the best of intentions.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m all set, but thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Jessica walked back to her stewardess seat and thought of moving out of Hartford.
Jeffrey leaned back in his chair and thought of home and school girls.
Henry. Henry thought of how best to dispose of Jessica and Jeffrey’s bodies.
A Special Notebook
“I seem to have misplaced my notebook, Miss.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but you will just have to wait until we touch down before we can try to find it, Sir.”
“But what if one of the passengers took it while I was in the bathroom?”
“I am sure they didn’t, but if they did then we will find it when we do check-outs when the flight is over, Sir.”
“Ok, but I need that notebook, it is very important to me.”
The notebook was a plain composition notebook; the little white shapes were colored in red in some places. On the back was a red duct tape cross on a field of white duct tape. It was very special indeed.
Inside those simple pages were the addresses of almost every woman who had mysteriously disappeared in the past two years.
When seventeen year old Jeffrey picked up the notebook he thought it felt heavier than usual. When he opened it and saw the pictures of naked women fall out, he got excited and quickly jammed the pictures back into the notebook, holding it against his chest.
What Jeffrey did not know is that these women were victims. Victims of rape and, dare the notebook say, murder. The addresses had been penciled in the notebook before the women had become victims.
The addresses were from all over the United States: Missouri, Mississippi, Florida, Georgia, California, Utah, Nevada and so on.
The addresses that had been “visited” were checked off with a red pen. There were forty-three red checks. Only one address was unchecked. The address was for Hartford, Connecticut.
The plane was on its way to Bradley airport in Connecticut.
If the pictures of the women inside had been the ones of what the evil man did to them afterwards then Jeffrey would have alerted the staff of the airplane, the stewardess would have distracted the evil man with alcohol and verbal seduction, then the plane would have landed. The evil man would have been kept aboard for “luggage reasons” as everyone else left. Once the plane was empty of all other passengers, the police would have boarded the plane and arrested Henry Garrison, the evil man, at once.
Unfortunately for the woman who lived at 34 Northbrook Drive, Hartford, Connecticut, Jeffrey was unaware of what the contents of the notebook really meant.
Also an unfortunate thing for Jessica Rembrandt (the tenant of 34 Northbrook Drive) was that Henry had a copy of her address on a napkin in his left rear pocket. He did not need his notebook to find her, to sodomize her then kill her.
But, as unfortunate events kept unfolding for Jessica, an unfortunate event unfolded for Henry. His own name and address were inside the front cover. Also, his credo was written on the inside back cover. It went like this:
God has put me on this Earth to punish and oppress any woman who punishes and oppresses any man. God has given me clearance to use this notebook to find, and punish, any woman who mistreats a man, regardless of whether or not he mistreated her first. Any man who asks me for help I must help, regardless of his past. I will stop at nothing to complete the tasks God has given me. This notebook is my Life and oppressive women’s Deaths.
This was when Jeffrey became nervous and scared. He had found the notebook next to the bathroom door and simply wanted to know what was inside. He had nothing to read on his way home from New York (from Virginia) so he thought there might be something interesting inside.
He was much too right for his own good.
Jeffrey was no idiot. But he was very clumsy when he was nervous. He also began to sweat and shake uncontrollably. He pressed the button for the stewardess to come and assist him.
She came over after about two minutes.
“Excuse me, Miss, but I found this notebook and I…”
“Oh, I know whose notebook that is! It’s Mister Finche’s over there,” she said, pointing to Henry, a bald man who looked very sharp, even in his casual clothes.
“Please, keep your voice down. There is something unusual about this notebook.”
“What do you mean?”
“He has all these pictures of naked women, and all these addresses with red pen marks next to them. Also, he has one address that isn’t marked yet.”
He turned to the page with the unmarked address and gave her the notebook.
“Oh my God. This is my address!” the young stewardess exclaimed, unable to keep calm.
“Your address? What did you do to him?”
“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything to him!”
“You oppressed a man! It’s his reason for the addresses, it says so on the back inside cover!”
He showed her Henry’s credo and her face turned red with fear; her eyes wide with shock.
“I thought he was a nice man, I gave him my address on the napkin with his drink!”
“Well, he’s ****ed up Miss. You might want to tell the Captain.”
“Miss, I advise you do nothing of the sort.”
Mr. Garrison had walked up behind her and touched her gently at the waist.
“Now, you just hand me that notebook. Adda girl, gently now.”
Jessica took the notebook from Jeffrey, stiff with terror, and gave it to Mr. Garrison as gently as he was touching her.
“Now, let’s just forget about the whole thing, alright? I just wanted to meet with you and propose on doing a photo shoot, but it’s obvious you aren’t interested.”
“A photo shoot?” Jessica sobbed.
“Yes, a photo shoot. I’m Jean Paul Finche, I shoot for E-to-Z magazine and I was hoping, when you gave me your address, that you would like to model for it.”
“Well, I would have if you told me before, but not now! And I think you should give me the napkin back and erase my address from the book,” the stewardess, Jessica said through tears now dripping past her mouth.
“I understand,” Henry said as he took the napkin out of his left rear pocket and handed it to her, “I need a pencil. Happen to have one?”
“I do,” said Jeffrey as he handed Henry a pencil, “Here.”
“Thanks,” Henry erased the address, having already memorized the address before confronting the pair.
“Well, now that that’s settled, I’m going to go sit down and relax for the rest of the flight. I advise you do the same young man, and be careful with what isn’t yours.” Henry’s voice was laced with hidden malice and discontent.
“I understand, Sir. And I’m sorry.”
“Not to worry son. And you, Miss. You keep up the wonderful job you are doing. It was a pleasure meeting you; it’s just too bad you don’t want to do the shoot anymore.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Jessica stammered, wiping the tears and running mascara from her face.
“Well, I’ll see you when the plane lands then,” and Henry walked back to his seat.
There was silence between Jessica and Jeffrey.
Jeffrey broke the silence, “He seems legit.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry I got you upset and worried.”
“No problem, it was a good thing of you to do, the best of intentions.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m all set, but thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Jessica walked back to her stewardess seat and thought of moving out of Hartford.
Jeffrey leaned back in his chair and thought of home and school girls.
Henry. Henry thought of how best to dispose of Jessica and Jeffrey’s bodies.