The murders had been going on for a while now. Citizens were starting to get scared. All along Beache Road, Roger Davies, the old man that used to be on city council, had started petitioning the government to call for the National Guard. Signs lined the sidewalks on people's front lawns. "Mr. Stuart has done NOTHING! CALL IN THE GUARD!" Davies wasn't the only one. Mr. Locke from Douglass Street had also riled up his neighbors. He could be seen going about in the evenings door-to-door, asking people to sign some petition or other. Rumor had it that there was going to be a (hopefully peaceful, but who knows?) protest in the town square Sunday afternoon. The pressure was piling up on Mr. Stuart and the rest of the city's police force. The sheriff was constantly getting notifications from his deputy about the situation of unrest in Clare View Point. "Mr. Stuart, you might want to see this." Each instance of protest more unruly and savage than the last.
And throughout the fiasco in the town, the dark figure continued to seemingly bring about these deaths, and now, the victims were identifiable. Of course, the dark figure remained out of sight, his clandestine outings to the crime scenes as discreet as ever. Or was he? He had already been spotted once, an over-enthusiastic police man's 5 block perimeter had seen to that, though they didn't recognize him. Soon enough, he melted into he shadows, escaping with his wits about him. Still, either he was getting reckless or the police were getting more diligent, more likely the former.
"Mrs. Edna, Mr. McCullum, bless their souls! These murders are getting out of hand, Mr. Stuart, and you better do something about it before we do!" Ugh, it was that fool, Roger. What was it with him? His signs were nightmarishly ugly as well, a dark purple with bright yellow text ruining the entirety of Beach Road!!! Sanjay Patel was getting sick and tired of it. In fact, he was going out there right now to end this madness! Sanjay opened the door and walked out to the sidewalk.
"Davies! What on earth do you think you're doing?"
"Isn't it obvious, young man?"
Sanjay blurted out the first thing that came to mind, dripping with sarcasm... probably not the best thing to do when dealing with an old guy who was already riled up.
"Yeah! You're going to save the city! You keep at it, and you might even LOSE A FEW POUNDS!"
"What. Did. You. Say. To. Me," Mr. Davies said with his jaw set.
"I said, 'YOU MIGHT EVEN LOSE A FEW POUNDS!'" Sanjay retorted, Mr. Davies "better-than-you" attitude spurring him on.
"YOUNG MAN, WATCH YOUR DAMN TONE!"
"GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS TOWN, DAVIES, OR YOU MIGHT BE MURDERED NEXT!"
Oops... that probably wasn't the best thing to say with a murderer on the loose. Sanjay froze as Mr. Davies jaw dropped. After what felt like an hour, Sanjay made a rude gesture to Mr. Davies and sprinted back to his house. After he slammed the door shut and locked it (who knows what the crabby old man might do to him?!), Sanjay rested against the door, panting.
"I've been waiting for you, Mr. Patel."
A dark figure stood before Sanjay. Though there was sunlight streaming through the blinds in the living room, the figure still seemed to be indistinct. He was wearing a long black trench coat and sunglasses, his features blurred by the mysterious haze.
"Who the hell are you?" Sanjay whispered.
"You'll see."
And throughout the fiasco in the town, the dark figure continued to seemingly bring about these deaths, and now, the victims were identifiable. Of course, the dark figure remained out of sight, his clandestine outings to the crime scenes as discreet as ever. Or was he? He had already been spotted once, an over-enthusiastic police man's 5 block perimeter had seen to that, though they didn't recognize him. Soon enough, he melted into he shadows, escaping with his wits about him. Still, either he was getting reckless or the police were getting more diligent, more likely the former.
*********************************************************
"Mrs. Edna, Mr. McCullum, bless their souls! These murders are getting out of hand, Mr. Stuart, and you better do something about it before we do!" Ugh, it was that fool, Roger. What was it with him? His signs were nightmarishly ugly as well, a dark purple with bright yellow text ruining the entirety of Beach Road!!! Sanjay Patel was getting sick and tired of it. In fact, he was going out there right now to end this madness! Sanjay opened the door and walked out to the sidewalk.
"Davies! What on earth do you think you're doing?"
"Isn't it obvious, young man?"
Sanjay blurted out the first thing that came to mind, dripping with sarcasm... probably not the best thing to do when dealing with an old guy who was already riled up.
"Yeah! You're going to save the city! You keep at it, and you might even LOSE A FEW POUNDS!"
"What. Did. You. Say. To. Me," Mr. Davies said with his jaw set.
"I said, 'YOU MIGHT EVEN LOSE A FEW POUNDS!'" Sanjay retorted, Mr. Davies "better-than-you" attitude spurring him on.
"YOUNG MAN, WATCH YOUR DAMN TONE!"
"GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS TOWN, DAVIES, OR YOU MIGHT BE MURDERED NEXT!"
Oops... that probably wasn't the best thing to say with a murderer on the loose. Sanjay froze as Mr. Davies jaw dropped. After what felt like an hour, Sanjay made a rude gesture to Mr. Davies and sprinted back to his house. After he slammed the door shut and locked it (who knows what the crabby old man might do to him?!), Sanjay rested against the door, panting.
"I've been waiting for you, Mr. Patel."
A dark figure stood before Sanjay. Though there was sunlight streaming through the blinds in the living room, the figure still seemed to be indistinct. He was wearing a long black trench coat and sunglasses, his features blurred by the mysterious haze.
"Who the hell are you?" Sanjay whispered.
"You'll see."
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