My first ever short story.

The Merovingian

‘serial killer on the loose in Adelaide, 3 murders so far and police are being pressured by the public for why no evidence has been found so far – Constable Williams speaks on the matter - we urge the public to give as much information to crime stoppers as we can, as it has become aware through the media that many of these murders are in public places, holding almost no evidence’ – switching the radio off dad spoke annoyingly ‘Bloody police, good for nothing I say’ pulling up to the school I got out quietly, hearing dads good bye as he drove off I walked up the stairs, today seemed like a nice day. Even though it was windy and cold, the white noise helped block out the annoying conscious thought that seemed to bug me, walking through the corridors I knock on the door of my school psychologist, 3 minutes late to our session.

I Open the door slowly and already I feel the hot air coming from his room, walking in I feel a sense of relaxation, not sure if it’s the sudden change in temperatures or the fact that his office is symmetrically perfect in every angle, the pens on his desk are a perfect 1 centimetre apart, I know this because I once checked with a ruler after he had left to get a coffee. I didn’t know why I was so obscured by the perfections of his office, or why it appealed to me either. Sitting down Dr Bernard ask how my day had been, I replied ‘good, so far. Yourself?’ speaking quickly after taking a sip of his coffee ‘yes yes, im doing good, although I spilt coffee on my shoes’ – ‘I noticed', I said looking down at the stains on his leather shoes quickly getting on he asked how my insomnia had been lately, and if I were getting better.

Full well knowing iv still had many sleepless nights, and odd sleep ins – I replied ‘good, although iv been feeling awfully bored lately – I think it might be the cause’ looking surprised at my answer he quickly got out his notepad and scribbled down something I couldn’t read – muttering something under his breathe he then asked if I had been feeling depressed lately ‘No offcourse not, but what bothers me is’ - cutting me of as he tries to finish my sentence; ‘anxious?’ annoyed with his response, I reply ‘no, what bothers me is that every time I openly announce something, your immediately trying to link it to depression, cant you think of anything else?’ looking slightly offended Bernard says ‘well okay then, lets look at this boredom factor, what’s boring you?’ feeling pressured, I know now I must choose my words carefully.

For if not I could contradict myself and whatever I say can be referred back to depression. I spoke softly ‘well I feel as if im much more capable of performing high standards of work then im currently producing’ looking curious he answered ‘like what, harder school work or is this something related outside of school, a hobby perhaps?’ not sure with what I just said in the first place – I replied ‘yeah like that, I want a more problematic hobby’ confused still to what im even saying, full well knowing that from that one sentence I just blurted out from no where, he’s going to condemn me to something I now have to pretend to be intrigued in, in order to get my name out of the black notepad he carries around, he announced ‘well why don’t you find something you particularly like, I know you like Sherlock Holmes, maybe you could pretend to be a detective or something?’ almost speaking sarcastically, although I wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not.

I replied in a deep manner ‘maybe I should try and solve the serial killer case that’s been all over the news’ hoping he’ll fall for my bluff and change subjects I sat quietly. As he wrote something down he looked back up and smiled. I had lost – ‘that sounds like a great idea Henry, although don’t take it too seriously because you don’t want to interfere with the proper authorities – but seeing as were almost out of time, next session come back and hopefully gain some data we might be able to analyse together and solve this case!’ he winked at me playfully. Looking at him like he had just soiled himself, I said coarsely ‘yeah. See you next week’ – ‘faggot’ I said softly under my breathe; although I noticed he had jerked his head a little when I spoke, he definitely knew what I said. After school dad came and picked me up.

asking how my session went with Dr Bernard I said ‘well we came to the agreement that trying to solve the serial killer murders is the best way to overcome insomnia because it will reduce boredom’ slightly confused dad replied ‘the serial killer case?’ – looking down with minor guilt after he spoke, making me feel a little sick inside I said ‘yeah you know the one, 3 people dead. You spoke about it this morning’ – ‘yeah right. That one. Forgot all about it’ dad laughed off awkwardly. Trying to bring the conversation back to life I said ‘why don’t you help me? I’ve already got some vital clues’ dad looked at me curiously ‘oh yeah like what, apparently police had yet to find vital evidence’ looking back down at my school books, wondering how dads memory just went from not even remembering the case to knowing all the details I answered ‘well one of the girls in my class said a witness reported seeing a 6ft tall man walking to the front door of the house 1 hour before the murder – around 11.11am precisely – apparently the man had dressed like a police officer yet there were no reports of the police door knocking at that time’

Dad didn’t seem so enthused, he didn’t speak the whole way home. When we arrived home I quickly ran into the house and went upstairs, got my notepad and pen and took the bus to the suburb of the last murder. On the bus I sat next to a middle-aged woman, the roots of her hair were showing grey and she had dyed her hair a dark purple. Although it looked weird she seemed attractive for her age. Getting of the bus she smiled at me and asked if I was going to the same friend’s house as last time, confused at what she just said I quickly ushered my way of the bus, signalling to her through the window she had mistaken me for the wrong person. Finally at the suburb I immediately see a patrol car drive past, must still be under investigation I think to myself, I decided to handle my investigations through logic and privacy, if it got to the point of desperation ill ask some people around the area.

Walking around I noticed it was a reasonably well kept area. Vandalism, rubbish etc. were all very minimal, a park behind the murder house seemed like a prime spot to investigate first. Wondering how exactly im going to gather data on the crime I thought to myself, if I were the murderer, how would I go about escaping without a single witness? Thinking deeply to myself I wondered if the best way to escape was to not escape at all and instead hide. Walking through the park I began looking at places were anyone could hide themselves, or evidence for that matter. I had ideas that maybe the murderer had previously dug out a hidden trench, I read about hidden trenches once in the Sino Japanese war. Walking around I knew what to look for, I didn’t expect it to be near the house because police would suspect that and check for it, I decided to check around the tree that was 46 feet away from the house, it seemed like a good place for someone to make a hidden trench, because the tree offers a roof so it wont get flooded and you can climb it to get a view inside the victims house.

Stomping the ground around the tree nothing seemed hollow, losing faith in my detective skills I noticed hanging strips of clothes right at the top of the tree, didn’t look like much but I might aswell climb up and give it a suss. Coming up to the tree I didn’t see much, you could barely see in the house and the clothes I found up here look years old and have grown into the wood. Looking around a sudden glare hit my eyes, instantaneously jogging my memory to my knowledge of periscopes. Periscopes are mainly designed for submarines and such, allowing someone to see up and around corners. Curious about the trees that just gave of a glare, I came to the assumption it’s around 65 feet away with a tree just behind it and 2 bushes below. With this discovery I decided to take a more careful look up in the tree I was currently in, looking down at my feet I noticed that someone while up here had broken a few branches, not only that they also snapped branches from above me, just at the top of my head. Perfect height I thought to myself. Climbing down from the tree I quickly jotted down the information I had just learnt and began making my way over to the other tree, upon walking up to it I decided to check around for any hidden trenches, stomping around the tree I looked up and noticed a girl sitting on a swing at the playground giving me a rather odd look, embarrassed I quickly jumped up into the tree and began climbing to the top, from above I couldn’t see any signs of a mirror, when I got to the top there wasn’t a mirror in sight, looking over at the other tree I began to realize if I did see a mirror itd be on a 45 degree angle facing the house, so you wouldn’t see it from inside the tree, only the outside.

Pushing branches out the way I began to lose hope in what I thought was a breakthrough, leaning back to catch my breathe I suddenly felt my weight fall through on the branch I was leaning on, falling to the ground I was lucky to land on the bushes surrounding the tree, barely hurt but bleeding from my forearm I got up and looked around, luckily the girl at the playground had left and didn’t see me awkwardly fall. Looking back up at the tree I was clueless to how I fell through the tree when there’s a stable branches all around it. Bending down to pick up my notepad, I picked up the main branch that was the reason for my fall and looked at the snapping point, oddly enough it was clean cut, so much to the fact it looked like someone had sawn of the branch and left it there, but why didn’t it fall? Wondering how exactly this happened I was re-enthused and quickly jumped up into the tree, rushing my way to the top. Once up there I looked at my falling point, the branch that gave way had been cut off at the bottom, leaning down even further I noticed that the stem where it had been cut off had a dry substance all around it, definitely not tree blood due to its transparency, it must be transparent glue, immediately standing back up I started booting the surrounding branches and one by one each branch came unstuck and fell out the tree, eventually a total of 11 branches fell out. All of which had been cut from the bottom and glued back directly, why was this I wondered, looking to the tree about 8 feet away, my mind instantly clicked. I could see what looked like a round mirror, camouflaged and slightly facing downwards on a 45 degree angle, the cunning murderer purposefully planned it like this so police wouldn’t have any sufficient information on how he gains his data and knowledge of his victim’s movement. A clever evasive tactic to escape VTN which is short for victim targeting network, this specific process targets a serial killers way of thinking.

Secondly, I know that around 60% of murder crimes committed are solved via eye witness reports. So if the killer went this far on covering there tracks. He must have done something very elaborate to escape eye witness reports. I know that a witness has already given a report on a police officer knocking at the door an hour beforehand, I think this policeman is definitely the murderer; all I have to do is work out his train of thought. But it was getting late now; I had to go home for dinner. Upon coming home Dad asked how everything went and if I made any discoveries, I felt as if what I found today should be kept secret, I don’t know why but something inside told me that I should continue investigating and see what I unravel. That night, I slept like a baby. Within 11 minutes I had fallen asleep which is something I’ve failed to do for the past 11 months. Waking up that morning at 7am I was happy that I was finally improving my insomnia, putting on the local news the first thing that popped up is a police conference not yet adjourned but streaming live, watching intently, dad came over and sat next to me.

As the officer stepped up to the podium he took a drink of water and began talking, first he stated he will not be answering any questions at this time and began talking about the cases, he spoke in what seemed to me, a very mysterious manner. Explaining how every one of the murders have contained significant clues, dads eyes shot up and he turned up the television, the officer went on to explain how the victims have been uniquely mutilated and the serial killer was playing a very dangerous game with the police. The first victim, had a W carved in on his chest and a crown of thorns pressed into his forehead. The second victim was stabbed through the stomach with a red sword and bled to death. The third and latest victim, was found in the bath completely dyed in black paint and an arm missing, this arm was later found on a seesaw at the local park, the nature of these crimes although very bizarre definitely have some link with each other, while dad put his breakfast away I quickly wrote down the details in my notepad. The police then ended the report with a plea to the public for any eye witness’s or useful information to immediately call the police. I felt that now is the time I should give up what I know, but before I could decide on what to do, Dad shot up and asked me if I needed any help on my investigations, I was a bit curious to why he asked but said yes anyway, I never get to spend that much time with my dad.

He asked what I had planned for next, I said I needed to go to the library because I had an idea on what the clues were based around. While at the library the words of the police officer on TV kept going through my head, a W carved in on the victims head, and a crown of thorns. What could this possibly mean, I decided to brainstorm the matter, I couldn’t derive anything from the letter W but as for a crown of thorns that had many possibilities, the one that occurred to me was Jesus himself. He was crucified with a crown of thorns, picking up the bible I flicked through it, skimming through pages until I finally hit something that seemed interesting, the Seven Seals, and more particularly, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. After reading more and more it became clear the messages the killer is trying to get across, each of the victims represent one of the four horsemen. The white, red and black horsemen have all been killed already, the fourth horsemen is all that’s left. That means there isn’t much time to solve who the murderer is or to save the last victim. Rushing of to find my dad he was no where to be found, wondering where he went I walked around the block, the car and dad was gone, although I wasn’t that far from home. I was curious to why dad had left un-expectantly. After walking home from the library dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway, I let myself in through the back window but cut myself on the window frame. Opening up the medical kit to find a bandaid for my cut. Transparent glue fell out. I picked it up and stared at it, I could see at the top that someone had used it, I know for a fact that it had never been opened before and I was beginning to feel sick in the stomach. Im now starting to be suspicious of my fathers role in these murders, why has he been so suspicious, what is he up to? Eager to learn more I raided his bedroom. Finding nothing at all I continued searching, going through his wardrobe, closet and finally his book-case as I went book to book looking for hidden insides, I eventually came across a rather suspicious book; Approaching Hoof beats: The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Was it coincidence that dad had this book? Maybe he knew I was coming closing to busting him which is why he left to commit his last murder, if so. What should I do? Should I call the police in paranoia of my fathers mental health and sanity, is there a logical reason to all this or is this purely scepticism, whatever it is I must find out the truth, going into my bedroom I took out a box I keep hidden under my bed.

It has my pocketknife and extra cash in it I kept for an emergency one day. Upon opening the box I felt dizzy, light headed. Coming to grips with reality I realized that inside this box was a police uniform, with blood and black paint all over it. Totally confused and baffled by what just happened I flung out the shirt and examined it, definitely blood I thought to myself. But how did this get here? Am I being set up for my fathers murders right now? Is he actually at the police station reporting me in? Getting up to go to the toilet I felt terribly sick on the inside. After washing my face a few times I began feeling better, now it was just a race against time to condemn my father. While thinking, I heard someone call my name, looking around in bedazzlement, I wondered who said that, still looking I heard it again.

Who keeps calling my name ‘hello? Is anyone there?’ – ‘behind you man!” – turning around in complete fear, I turn to face myself. Did I just talk to myself? Looking at myself in the mirror, I talked again ‘your not crazy’ quickly grabbing my mouth to stop myself from talking I stared at myself and realized, my mirror-self is not covering his mouth back at me, I started laughing and by me I mean the mirror. ‘what’s going on?’ I asked. The man in the mirror stopped laughing and stood there, looking at me he spoke, smiling ‘I am you. And im here to help us’ – feeling instantly sick I turned away, turning back I looked at myself ‘iv gone ****ing crazy’ the feeling of dread over-comes me, Iv lost the plot.

Im insane. Hold on now the other one spoke, you’re not crazy and if it makes you feel better we’ll talk in here. Shut up I said, don’t talk in my head, or in real life. Did you kill those people? I started laughing, punching myself in the stomach to stop laughing. I then told me to let me explain myself first. After almost passing out, I agreed. He then led me outside to a stone in my backyard and lifted it up and pulled out a cigarette. ‘What are you doing I don’t smoke’ I thought to myself, the immediate reply of ‘you have been for the past 11 months’ came across my mind, baffled I sat down, with a smoke in front of a mirror. Where’s my dad? Where’d you take him? I questioned myself. ‘we didn’t take him anywhere’ I said, let me refresh your memory, in a few moments I felt the crushing force of what seemed like someone punching the top of my head multiple times, finally it stopped and hours of memories filled my head taking me to instant flashbacks. Im inside a house, what seems to me as the third victim’s house. Pulling out my mobile I start ringing someone, after three rings he answers ‘hello..’ I reply with ‘man its green. I’ve got someone back at yours waiting for you, check your car.” And I hang up, suddenly I start to understand what’s happening, I start to remember the memories my other self experienced, the 11 months of insomnia, the dreams I had. All real, all him. All me.

As the blank spots in my memory gradually filled in I now understood why I was at this house, and why I was about to kill this man. Finally 20 minutes went by, and the front doorbell rang, opening the door a police officer stood there, smiling. I immediately pulled him in and put chloroform over his mouth, knocking him out. Dragging him into the bath I put him in the tub, drowning him in black paint I picked up his right arm and chopped it off with a machete, after that I took his phone and used a application that sends messages ahead in time to a specific date. That date being today. After suddenly coming back to reality to myself in a mirror I vomited everywhere, although I now understand myself, I still couldn’t comprehend what was happening. But I knew what to do, dad was going to be home in 20 minutes and I have to tie myself up before that happens. 20 minutes past, I hear dads car pull in. I’ve tied myself up on the kitchen table; the only thing in the room with me is the second kitchen table. Dad comes in, crying.

Looking at me he apologises again and again, I don’t say anything, looking up. Dad walks over to the table, picks up the rope and begins tying down his hands. Crying. After 10 minutes dad ties down himself, after 5 minutes of waiting I get up, dad looking at me completely confused, with a tinge of happiness he immediately applauds my escape, telling me to untie him. I look back at him, pulling out a book called ‘Approaching Hoof beats: The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.’ Putting it to his face I asked him, do you know what this is? Pretending to be confused, dad replies ‘what is this? Henry stop this at once and untie me, I have no idea what that book means!” I stand there, quietly. A little disappointed in my dads efforts to salvage his life, pulling out a small black phone I see dads face drop, I say ‘so you don’t recognise this?’ dad going from sympathetic to angry, immediately starts his abuse ‘you little ****, you piece of ****ing **** I should of killed you when I had the chance’ – ‘shut up Edward, your no longer my father and im no longer your son, all you have left from me is this story’ as I sat down to explain what I have just understood myself, Edward listened.

‘remember how I had insomnia, couldn’t sleep for months and months’ dad now grovelling to himself doesn’t reply, I continue on ‘turns out, I was awake when I thought I was asleep, and my sub-conscious has begun to perceive reality as a conscious mind – but offcourse, you cant have 2 conscious minds, so they split. But this conscious mind of mine is like no other, it contains the memories, the lifetimes of information and facts built up within it to exceed the intelligence of any life on this planet, it constructed, or more to say, I constructed, a chess-like game, in which where you and your friends were the pawns, although I do owe it to you, if you and your sadistic friends didn’t continue on the way you did my sub-conscious wouldn’t of realized and devised this plan, but that’s irrelevant now. Now I believe your last friend, the one I painted black had received a phone call from you the day he died but offcourse you don’t remember such a thing because it was me! I rang him up claiming to be you, telling him I have a fresh piece of meat kept at his house, and that in his car was a police uniform, then you sadistic paedophiles could of filled her heart with hope like she was being rescued before being thrown right back in that cell, you sick ****s. And as delightful as that sounded for your friend it was not the way it panned out, as you can see, all that was left of your four horseman paedophile gang was you, but offcourse I couldn’t get away with your murder secretly, the adolescent mind of this body wouldn’t comprehend the death, the memories would never become repressed and instead haunt him for the rest of his days. So what did I do? Well I sent a text, through a pretty clever application that lets you put a date on when it’ll be sent. All this time you thought someone was hunting you, killing off your friends, saving you for last and did you expect it to be me? When you got a message saying I have your son tied up what did you feel? I hope it was dread and pain’ goodbye Edward Hyde.


any tips on what i should focus on structure wise etc.?