The Midnight Murders

“Help! Someone please, help me! Help!”

Jenn screams echoed through the dense woods, as she toiled against the strong, icy wind.

“Help me!”

Her sneakers slipped on the mossy growth, sending her careening down the embankment. She screamed in anguish as she tumbled down the hillside, jagged rocks tearing holes into her clothing.

Her body rebounded off a fallen tree as she landed face down in a mud puddle.

Jenn rolled on to her back, wincing in pain. Every part of her body ached.

She sat up with a groan, wiping the mud from her face. She ran her hand through her matted hair, twigs and leaves caught in the tangled mess.

Footsteps approaching had her scanning her surroundings. A dark figure loomed in the distance. Jenn felt her heart pound in her chest as her eyes lingered on the sharp axe, its blade glistening in the moonlight.

Scrambling to her feet, Jenn limped off, ducking behind trees in a vain attempt to hide from her assailant.

Her breathing hastened as she raced through the woods. Her calves were cramping as she desperately tried to quicken her pace.

She tripped over a fallen log. Crying out in pain, she quickly clamped her hand over her mouth, glancing over her shoulder. Crawling on her belly, she wriggled into the hollowed-out tree, tucking her knees up to avoid her feet sticking out.

She squeezed her eyes shut; her hand still clamped over her mouth as the heavy footsteps approached. Jenn stayed as still as she could to avoid detection.

The mysterious man stepped onto the log. She opened her eyes, peering through the cracks in the wood.

He was standing above her, his right foot resting atop the log. From her hiding spot, Jenn could clearly see the gleaming axe. She closed her eyes, silently praying for him to leave her alone.

Leaves rustled to the left of her. His head snapped up in the direction, his piercing eyes surveying the landscape. With a grunt, he climbed over the log and began running in the direction of the sound.

Jenn lowered her hands from her face, not daring to breathe, as she listened to him disappear deeper into the woods.

Counting slowly from 10, Jenn wiggled out of her hiding place.

Weaving in between the trees, Jenn heard a familiar rumbling in the distance. It sounded like a truck barreling down the winding roads. Elation filled her, as she sucked in a deep breath before finding the courage to sprint in the direction of the noise.

Bursting through the trees, Jenn stumbled over a small rock and landed hard on the road. Her vision blurred as she cried out in pain, gripping her knee and rolling around. Her jeans were tattered and stained with blood.

The ground rumbled, pebbles jumping. Jenn got to her feet and stepped into the middle of the road. She waved her arms frantically as a car rounded the bend, its headlines washing over her.

The car slowed and the driver rolled down their window.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Jenn hurried to his door. “Someone’s chasing me,” she cried, holding up her bloodied hands to show she was unarmed.

She heard the doors unlock and the man told her to get in.

She climbed into the passenger seat, fearfully glancing over her shoulder as the car roared off.

Emotion overcame her as they followed the winding road through the woodlands. Tears swelled in her eyes, a loud sob escaping her.

The man driving kept glancing at her, assuring her everything would be alright. “I’ll take you to a hospital,” he said. “We can call the police from there.”

Jenn appreciated his kind sentiments, flashing him a smile and thanking him for stopping. “Don’t you have a cell phone?” she asked, unable to hide the urgency in her voice.

The man nodded. “Battery died about 20 minutes ago,” he replied, reaching into his coat pocket to retrieve the phone. He handed it to her. “If you can turn it on, use it.”

Frantically, Jenn pushed the button, holding it firmly, waiting for the screen to react. The screen remained black. She tried again, crying out in frustration when the same thing happened.

The car rounded a bend, the headlights washing over the trees, casting eerie shadows along the roadside. Jenn swallowed hard, her eyes scanning the trees, searching for the man that had been chasing her.

The car came to a screeching halt. Unprepared for the sudden stop, Jenn launched forward in her seat, her seat belt restraining her from hitting the dashboard. The phone fell from her hand, disappearing under the seat.

“Why did you stop?” she demanded.

The man stared straight ahead. Jenn followed his gaze, gasping in terror as the silhouette of a man standing in the middle of the road was illuminated by the car’s headlights. The blade from his axe gleamed menacingly.

“Go,” Jenn ordered, her voice barely a whisper. She cleared her throat. “Go!” she ordered; this time more forceful.

The man pressed his foot to the accelerator. The back wheels spun as the car jerked forward, speeding towards the man in black.

Jenn felt her heart climb in her chest as they got closer to him.

The man raised his axe, resting it against his shoulder as he calmly stepped out of the way of the speeding car.

They cheered loudly as the car moved past him.

“I can’t believe that worked!” the driver cried, unable to hide his joy. “See you later, sucker!”

Jenn laughed, relaxing for the first time that evening, leaning back in her seat, her eyes closed as she slowed her breathing.

Suddenly, the car swerved hard to the left, its horn breaking the silence of the night. It hit the guardrail on the side of the road. Jenn braced herself for impact, screaming in terror as the car rolled onto its roof.

Once glance at the driver told her he was dead. Blood caked the back of his head, oozing from a large bullet wound.

Unfastening her seatbelt, Jenn fell from her seat. She was bleeding from a small cut on her forehead. The crimson fluid trickled down her face. Jenn shivered. It was eerily warm as it ran off her nose in thick droplets.

Pressing her foot against the passenger side window, Jenn kicked out with as much force as she could muster.

It took a couple of tries until the glass cracked under the pressure of her kicks. The window shattered, sending glass flying in all directions. Some of the fragments stuck in Jenn’s jeans, tearing the fabric and cutting into her flesh.

She wiggled around, sliding her torso through the broken window, her hands splaying on the outside of the door.

“No!”

Jenn screamed as the assailant stepped into view.

He raised the axe above his head.

“Don’t please! I’ll do anything!”

The assailant paused; the axe held into place. He tilted his head, his dark eyes staring down at her.

Jenn held up her hand to defend herself. “I’ll do anything you want,” she pleaded, tears escaping her eyes. “Anything at all. Just don’t kill me.”

Jenn attempted to wiggle her body back inside the car, her hips rocking in subtle movements.

He narrowed his eyes. She screamed as he swung the axe, its blade lodging in her neck. Blood spurted from the wound, saturating her clothes. She let out a strangled gurgle, the light fading from her eyes.

His shoe pressed against her shoulder as he removed the weapon with a grunt.

Jenn’s body twitched, her mouth parting as she gasped. Her hand reached up towards him.  

He raised the axe again before striking her in the neck again.

Beneath the mask he wore, he smiled in satisfaction as her head rolled into the ditch beside the road.

********************************************************************************************

“Looks like the Midnight Murderer got another victim!”

Detective Mark Donovan glared at the young crime scene technician. “Hey, show some tact. That’s someone’s child,” he snarled, shoving his sunglasses into his shirt pocket.

The technician pursed his lips and slinked away while his more experienced counterpart stepped up to the detective. “Mark,” he greeted. Mark nodded and mumbled a greeting in response.

“What do we have?” Mark asked, crouching beside the overturned vehicle.

“It seems as though the car has lost control,” the technician advised. “Although there aren’t any break patterns to suggest the driver tried to regain control of the vehicle. However, in saying that, there are skid marks a bit further up the road, which suggests the car came to an abrupt stop.”

He moved around to the driver’s side. The body of the driver had been removed from the car and placed on a gurney. The technician unzipped the body bag to show the detective the body.

Mark’s nose crinkled in disgust as the stench of death assaulted him. “One shotgun blast to the head. From the burn pattern, or lack thereof, it’s safe to assume this guy was killed from a distance. One bullet, instant death. I suppose that’s something.”

Mark rezipped the bag. “I take it we’re assuming the shot was taken from back where the tire tracks are?” he questioned.

The technician nodded. “Not many people can make that shot. Well, except for you,” he quipped.

Mark’s eye twitched. “Me, and whoever the hell this is,” he interjected quickly. The technician grinned, giving him a wink.

Mark cleared his throat. “And the female?”

“She suffered. From what I can make out, she survived the crash but was decapitated as she tried to escape the vehicle. Judging by the mark on the neck, I’m going to go with an axe. The wound, even at a glance, is too large to be a large knife or blade like a machete.”

Mark pursed his lips, staring off into the woods. “And the time of death?”

The technician sighed, his head nodding slightly. “I’d say around midnight. Definitely the work of the Midnight Murderer.”

Mark groaned, his brow furrowing. “Thank you,” he replied, heading back to his car, removing his phone from his pocket. He dialed his captain’s number, relaying the details of the accident to him.

“I’ve got a hunch that these woodlands are his hunting grounds,” Mark said. “I’d like to set up a sting. Get some officers out here to pose as a couple. There’s a lover’s lane nearby. If they park up there, maybe we can catch him in the act.”

He rested against the car, listening to his captain. His eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any signs of who might be behind the string of murders in the area.

His captain agreed to the sting, informing Mark that he would send his best undercover team to pose as a couple in hopes of catching the Midnight Murderer.

“I want the best shooters we have on site. I’m not letting this son-of-a-bitch get away.”

“Sir, with all due respect, we don’t want lover’s lane to be crawling with cops,” Mark protested. “If we have obvious spotters, he won’t attack rendering the sting ineffective. It’s bad enough that the media have gotten wind of these killings and are making this asshole out to be an anti-hero.”

“Well, what do you suggest, Donovan?”

“Just me. I’ll head up there now and scope out the area, find a place to lie low.”

His captain argued with him, stating they needed more than just him hiding in the bushes. “This man has killed 10 people we know of! I will not add you as a statistic.”

“I’m not giving you a choice, Captain,” Mark told him, climbing into his car. “I’m the best shot on the force, something that I’ve proven time and time again. I’ve got this. Just send up the undercovers. I’m thinking Jack Easton and Allison Vale.”

“Why those two?”

“Jack is good with guns, aside from me, he’s the best we have. While Allison is good at hand-to-hand combat. Those skills may come in handy. Ensure they have weapons hidden in the car that’s easily accessible. I’ll find a vantage point overlooking lover’s lane. Someplace where I won’t be visible, but I can still watch over them. I won’t let them out of my sight.”

His captain paused, processing what Mark had said. “Fine,” he agreed. “But it’s just for tonight. If he doesn’t turn up, we do it my way, is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

He hung up, a scowl crossing his face as he caught site of the local news crew pulling up at the scene.

Adjusting his jacket, Mark strolled over to them. “Vickie,” he greeted, coolly. “Back to terrorize my team again.”

The reporter flashed him an award-winning smile. “Hello, Detective. I take it that you haven’t caught the Midnight Murderer yet, despite all your grandstanding that you would have him in custody four victims ago?”

Mark’s eye twitched. “You know, Vickie, you’re going the right way to be added to the list. Now get that camera out of my face, get back in your van, and head down to the community center. I hear the old ladies are having a knitting contest.”

Before she could respond, Mark turned on his heel and returned to his car. He climbed inside and started the engine, squealing the tires as he peeled away from the crime scene. 

********************************************************************************************

“Turn left up ahead.”

Allison checked the car clock. It ticked over to 11PM. “We’re late,” she mused.

Jack nodded. “Blame the flat tire on this piece of crap car,” he retorted. He turned left onto a dirt road that wound through the trees.

Allison stared out the window. “Do you think he’s going to show?” she asked.

“I hope so,” Jack replied. “Imagine the prestige that will come with capturing the Midnight Murderer. Not to mention the overtime that this is giving us.”

Allison chuckled. “It would be nice to be involved in busting a case,” she said, glancing down at the map. “The clearing should be up ahead.”

The car rolled slowly down the dirt road, eventually coming to a clearing overlooking a waterfall.

Jack parked, turning the headlights off. He slipped is hand down beside the seat, feeling for his weapon. He turned to face Allison, unbuckling his seatbelt. “You have your weapon?” he asked, scanning his surroundings.

Allison nodded. “Yes. One sidearm is in the glove compartment while I have another next to the seat.”

“Good.”

The radio played softly, breaking the silence. Jack’s eyes roamed over Allison. She was pretty with long blonde hair, perfectly curled, and big blue eyes. She was petite, barely coming up to his shoulder. But he knew she was a mixed martial artist, so size didn’t matter.

“So,” he began. “Should we kiss?”

Allison’s eyes widened. Jack was handsome, with dark hair and eyes to match. He had a slight British accent when he spoke which just made his chiseled features that much more attractive.

“I suppose we should,” she replied, her cheeks growing warm. She ducked her head, embarrassed that she was blushing.

Jack placed a hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her knee. “We can talk for a little while if you’d like,” he told her. His eyes darted to the clock. “I mean, we do have plenty of time to kill.”

“Did you have to say ‘kill’?”

“Sorry.” Jack chuckled. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “You know, when I signed up for the force, I didn’t think I’d be performing an undercover sting to take out a dangerous serial killer.”

“That makes two of us.” Allison chewed her lip. “Did you always want to be a cop?”

“It was in my blood. Dad was a cop. His father was a cop. His father’s father was a cop. I guess it was already decided for me. What about you?”

Allison nodded. “I did. I saw my mother killed in a mugging when I was six. Despite being bounced around foster homes, my desire for justice never wavered.”

Jack reached for her. “I’m sorry about your mother. I didn’t know.”

Allison forced a smile to her face. “A lot of people don’t know, and I’m okay with that.”

He took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Allison smiled, locking eyes with him.

Sensing the mood had shifted, Jack leaned in, his lips pressing lightly against hers. Allison raised her hand, her palm gliding over his cheek.

Jack lowered his hands, gripping her hips as he pulled her closer to him. He leaned back in his seat, pulling Allison atop him.

“Wait, wait,” Allison said, brushing her hair out from her eyes. “I heard something outside.” She peered out the window, searching the clearing. Her eyes locked on something that glistened beneath the moonlight in the distance.

She jumped back, her hand covering her mouth to prevent a scream from escaping. “I think he’s out there! I swear I just saw an axe!”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Jack responded, his hand dropping from her waist, feeling for his gun. He stared out the window, following her gaze. “I don’t see anything. Besides, Donovan is watching us. He’s a crack shot.”

Allison’s eyes widened. “Say that again,” she said.

“I didn’t hear anything?”

“No, after that.”

“I don’t see anything?”

Allison sighed, rolling her eyes. “After that.”

“Mark Donovan is watching us and he’s a crack shot?”

“He’s a crack shot.”

Allison leaned over, reaching into the back seat. She pulled out a thick file and settled back into the passenger seat.

“What are you doing?”

Allison didn’t respond. Instead, she began flipping through the papers, mumbling under her breath.

Jack’s hand twitched on the handle of his gun. An unsettling feeling washed over him. It felt like they were being watched. He turned off the radio, his head titled as he listened. The wind howled through the trees, the leaves rustling with each gust.

“Ah-ha!”

Jack jumped, pulling his gun up from the side of the seat, holding it outright with a shaking hand. “What?”

She handed the file to Jack. He lowered his weapon to his lap as he took the documents from her. “The last two victims. One of them was shot. That goes against everything the Midnight Murderer had done previously.”

Jack scanned the file. “Maybe it’s the only victim we have so far that has been shot,” he mused. “I mean, we’ve only linked 10 people to him so far. What’s not to say that he’s been doing this for years and has more bodies to his name.”

“Maybe. Maybe he uses all kinds of methods to throw us off his scent. Or maybe it’s someone showing off their skills.”

Jack stared at her, a perplexed expression crossing his face. “Are you seriously accusing a decorated detective of being the Midnight Murderer?”

Allison arched her eyebrow. “An unhinged detective. A detective who has been suspended without pay more times than I can count. A detective who has bragged repeatedly about his shooting abilities. Every time you see him on the news, he threatens the reporters. I mean, who else could make such a difficult shot with such precision?”

Jack’s hand gripped the handle of his gun. He raised it, aiming it at Allison as his mouth turned into a slow, menacing grin. “Me.”

He pulled the trigger, her blood spraying over him. The windscreen was coated in her blood, the crimson liquid pooling around the bullet hole in the glass.

He climbed out of the car, his ears still ringing from the loud bang.

Mark ran down the embankment, dressed all in black, axe in hand.

“Jesus Christ!” Mark cried, resting the axe on his shoulder. “I thought you were going to let me scare her some more.”

Jack wiped the blood from his face, smearing it across his skin. “Turns out, Officer Allison Vale is more intelligent than we both realized,” he said, handing Mark the folder. “She worked out that it was you, based on the shot that took out that driver from last night.”

Mark took the file from Jack’s outstretched hand. “It was a risky move, but no one gets away,” he quipped.

Jack nodded, glancing back at his latest kill. “What are we going to do with her?”

Mark handed him a knife. “Leave her here. Cut yourself and smear some of your blood on the car. Make it look like you’ve been taken. My car is over there,” he pointed towards some bushes off to the side of the clearing. “I’ve already left my blood on a few tree trunks. I’ll get my car, 'drag' you to it, and we’ll head up to the cabin.” He flashed Jack the bandage on his arm, seeping with blood.

Jack ran the knife across his arm, blood oozing from the wound. He wiped it across the door handle and down the side of the car, adding a few drops to the dirt. He wrapped a bandana around the wound, tying it tightly to stop the bleeding.

Mark approached his car and retrieved his scope rifle from the backseat. He turned back to see Jack smearing his blood all over the car.

Cocking the rifle, Mark took aim and pulled the trigger. One clean round went right through the back of Jack’s head.

Jack fell to his knees, slumping into the dirt, a pool of blood forming beneath him.

Mark tossed the rifle into the car, along with the axe, and pulled out his phone, dialing his captain’s home number.

“Captain. I got the Midnight Murderer.”

“Donovan, don’t toy with me.”

“I’m not, sir. I got him. Unfortunately, your two undercovers are deceased as a result of it.”

“We’ll be up there soon enough. I’ll tell the M.E that there’s three bodies to pick up.”

“No, Cap. There’s two. Jack Easton was the Midnight Murderer. I watched him kill Allison Vale before staging the scene to look like he was taken and killed elsewhere.”

He removed the bandage from his arm, the red corn syrup he had used to imitate blood running down his arm.

“Easton? I don’t believe it!”

“Believe it, sir. I did my own research into these murders. Easton was always on leave when the murders took place. His precision in the gun range and combat training had improved. Plus, he had a manifest in his bottom desk draw, last file holder. I saw it yesterday after we got the call regarding the overturned car.”

“I don’t suppose he told you why he did all this?”

Mark stared at the carnage before him. “No, sir,” he replied.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Mark confirmed they were headed to lover’s lane. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t have backup close by, did you?”

Mark chuckled. “I knew you would. I’ll give them a briefing, then if you don’t mind, I’d like to head home and get some sleep.”

“Of course. They should be there in less than five minutes.”

“Thanks, Cap.”

“Donovan. You did a good job.”

Mark smiled and ended the call.

He waited until backup arrived before giving them the rundown of what happened and what they could expect. Once he was satisfied that they could manage without him, he climbed into his car and left the scene.

Cruising down the winding roads, Mark turned on the radio. He began to sing along, humming the melody. It felt good to be back in the good graces of the captain. Even if it meant sacrificing another officer.

A fork in the road loomed ahead. Instead of turning left to head south back towards the city, he turned right, heading up towards the mountain ranges.

He turned down a dirt road, his car skidding in the mud, sending his cruiser into a spin. He regained control of the car and continued along the road, before pulling up next to a rundown cabin.

Getting out of the car, Mark pulled open the back door, grabbing his gun and the axe hidden beneath the front seat.

Slinging the gun over his shoulder and tucking the axe under his arm, Mark moved to the trunk of his car. He carefully placed the axe on the ground, resting it against his left leg.

Popping it open, he smiled menacingly.

Inside, staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes, was Vickie Snowden, the reporter for channel 6. Her long dark hair framed her face. Her hands were secured behind her while a piece of duct tape was placed over her mouth.

Her muffled cries grew louder as he reached for her, removing the tape from her mouth.

“Please, please, let me go,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Mark grinned. “Oh, I will, Vickie. But first, I want to play a game.” He held up his hands. “Left, or right?”

“Please, I don’t want to play. Let me go!”

Mark’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to make me choose for you, aren’t you?”

Her reply was a loud sob.

Mark sighed. “Left it is,” he replied, picking up the axe. Its blade glistened in the moonlight.

Vickie shrieked in fright, cowering in the trunk. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded, her voice shaking.

Mark tilted his head, appearing lost in thought.

“Ours is not to reason why; Ours is but to do and die,” he responded, checking his watch, his lip twitching into a smile as the time neared midnight.

He helped her out of the trunk of the car, slicing the binds on her wrists. Instinctively, she rubbed her wrists.

“Now, my dear. I want you to run. Run as fast and far as you can. I’ll stay here and count to 100 before coming to getting you.” He raised the axe, making a chopping motion, so she understood what he was going to do with her.

“You’re him, aren’t you? You’re the Midnight Murderer.”

He chuckled. “I did warn you that you’d make the list,” he jeered.

Vickie began to cry, pleading with him. “Please, Detective, let me go. I promise I won’t say anything. I just want to know why you’re doing this.”

Mark held up his finger, wagging it at her. “You know the funny thing about motives,” he began, admiring the craftsmanship of his weapon of choice. “It’s a lot scarier when there is none.”

He swung the axe at her. Her screams echoed across the woods.

And then there was silence.