The Harmony Slasher: Mr. Winslow's Revenge

“ESCAPED!!” I screamed! Scrambled and in shock, I started to pace around my apartment, “How did he escape?” I was scared to death. He would come after me; I knew he would. I was the reason he got caught in the first place. I thought after all these years, I would be safe. I was just starting to move past all of the psychological trauma caused by Mr. Winslow's murdering spree.

It took years of therapy to understand what happened and grieving the loss of my best friend, Primrose. I managed to get out of my head and became a counselor for troubled teens. It wasn't a glamorous job, but it felt good assisting these teenagers with lousy home life. If I could help at least one of them, perhaps they would grow up and break free of the never-ending cycle they were stuck in.

I felt like if Primrose had someone to talk to before her father murdered her, maybe she and all the other girls might still be alive. I wish I could have noticed something, anything in Primrose, to get her away from the evil father she was stuck with. She hid it too well.

I was at a loss of what to do—not knowing if I would be safe in my apartment. Would my parents be in danger too? Did they know Mr. Winslow had broken free? As far as Mr. Winslow knew, I could still be in my hometown. After I graduated high school, I went to college and made sure it was as far away from home as I could get. I stayed away for many years after that because, in the back of my mind, I wasn't safe there anymore.

I tried calling my parents, repeatedly calling, no answer: the house phone, both of their cell phones. My panic became worse. They always answered my calls; even after leaving town, we were all still so close. We talked every day no matter what. My mind was racing; something had to be wrong. I didn't know what to do. I ran to my bedroom and grabbed a pair of socks and shoes. I put them on as quickly as I could. My thoughts made it almost impossible to figure out where my keys were. I searched everywhere. I did this all the time; only this moment was worse because I needed to vacate and figure out where the hell my parents were.

When I finally found my keys, I heard a loud knock at my door. My heart started to race. All these thoughts consumed me with overwhelming fear. This is it—my time to die. I searched around for something to defend myself. I heard the knock again, only louder this time. I grabbed the closest thing in my reach, a broken chair leg, I'd been meaning to fix for months. My first instinct was to hide because any second now, Mr.Winslow would be busting down my door. Scanning, deliberating where the least conspicuous place would be. I decided to hide beside the door; that way, when he did break it down, he wouldn't see me right away, and I could clobber him in the head, crushing his skull. My plan wasn't flawless, but it was better than not fighting for my life.

I took my stance and waited for the door to be broken down. I heard the loud knocking once more, but a vaguely familiar voice accompanied it.

“Miss. Kirks, umm. Emily, it's me, Special Agent Ebers, from the F.B.I. I'm sorry if I frightened you. I know you're home. I can hear you inside. Please open the door.”

I slowly moved closer to the door to take a peek out of the peephole, hesitant about opening it in case my mind was playing tricks on me. I glimpsed out into the hall and caught sight of a now greyed haired Special Agent Ebers. Relived to see his face, I unlocked the door and opened it to let him in.

The expression on Agent Ebers was concerning. I could tell from our previous meetings years ago that something was wrong. Agent Ebers stuck around for a while after Mr.Winslow got arrested because he kept sending me death threats and made several attempts to escape. He ended up killing a guard with his pencil and was moved to maximum security. After a few months, Agent Ebers felt it was safe and went back to headquarters.

I convinced myself his concerned manner was about the escape. I didn't want to waste any more time than I had to. I needed to locate my parents. If I was lucky, maybe Agent Ebers had already been in contact with them, and they were hidden safely away, out of harm.

“Emily, I'm sure my visit isn't completely unexpected in light of Mr. Winslow's recent escape. I have to tell you something; maybe you should sit down.”

“I already know he's coming after me, but look, I gotta go. I can't get ahold of my parents. Have you been in contact with them yet?”

“We sent an agent there this morning, but Emily.”

I cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“Oh, thank God, I was terrified when neither of them answered their phone. I have been thinking the worst.”

Emily, can you please sit down for a minute?”

“Why do I need to sit down? Can't we just talk on the way to meeting up with my parents?”

Agent Eber’s face flooded with anguish. I didn't understand why we couldn't leave now. Instead of staying here like sitting ducks, it was clear my life was in danger.

“Look, Emily, there's no easy way to say this, but umm... your parents were attacked by Mr.Winslow late last night.”

“WHAT!? What do you mean attacked? Please tell me they're going to be ok!”

“I'm sorry, but unfortunately, they didn't survive. Your parents were killed during the attack.”

My whole world came crashing down, my heart shattered into a million pieces, unable to be put back together. This can't be happening again. He's already taken so much from me. How could he take my parents too?

The shock of my parent's death was too much. I stood there cationic; I couldn't manage to utter one word out; my body was frozen. I felt as if the fight in me was gone. If Mr.Winslow had shown up at that moment, my existence in this world would have been over. I was utterly useless.

Agent Ebers was quiet, too; I think he realized anything he said after that was pointless. He let me mourn in my silent cries for as long as he could.

“Emily, we need to go. I know this is difficult to process but staying any longer is dangerous.”

He grabbed my arm and helped me walk out the door. I wasn't much help assisting him. I'm sure it felt like he was taking an unruly lazy dog on a walk. Going down the stairs to his car, I felt like a zombie. Agent Ebers was the brains, and I was the minion following him for survival. We finally made it. He sat me down in his car and buckled my seatbelt.

We started driving. I didn't even question him on where we were headed. I think the silence in the car was too awkward, and Agent Ebers turned on the radio. Every station talked of The Harmony Slasher’s escape. I heard brief descriptions between each one of how Mr. Winslow was on a rampage, killing and hurting anyone in his way.

His kill tally was going up every day he was free. He was doing his work of God again, and I was his primary target this time. The sinner he wanted most.

Agent Ebers turned off the radio and finally broke our silence. He held up his thermos.

“Do you want some coffee?”

I didn't even acknowledge the question.

“We’re heading to a safe house outside of town. It’s pretty secluded, so you should be safe there until we catch this monster. We have everyone on a manhunt looking for him. Lord willing, it won't be much longer before he’s found.”

I held onto my silence; however, none of this mattered to me anymore. I had no one left to go back to anymore. Mr.Winslow took my best friend, then the little childhood I had left, and now my parents. There was no sense in running away. If he wanted to find me, he would.

Ebers pulled up to the house. I just peered out my window, still somewhat frozen in my trance. I heard him turn off the ignition, pick up his thermos and start to open his door. Then I felt a warm liquid splatter all over me. I looked over to him, thinking maybe he splashed his coffee on me somehow. Only to be mortified because Agent Eber’s throat had been sliced all the way open from side to side. His blood sprayed all over the steering wheel. He was choking and gurgling, dying next to me. I tried to stop the bleeding with my hands, but his blood was spewing out too fast, causing Ebers to die in a matter of seconds. I felt helpless when I was unable to save him.

In some warped way, a person would think I would be used to this by now. Once again, freaked out was a grave understatement. I thought I was in a panic back at my apartment but what just happened in the car made everything seem unbelievable. I started to look around and saw the back seat door was cracked open, and a blanket was falling out.

Mr.Winslow had been in the car the whole time. I was in too much of a fog to even think about that possibility. How did he go undetected by Agent Ebers? He prevailed again and managed to go unnoticed, easily catching his prey.

I had never been so petrified in my entire life. Staying in the car was my only option. Getting out meant I would have succumbed to my gruesome demise at the hands of my relentless obsesser. I wasn't going to let that happen. My struggle to keep on fighting washed away. I couldn't allow myself to be taken down by this predator, my own personal nightmare. This tragic tale had to end here. He would never take anything else away from me again.

I knew what I had to do to succeed. I immediately locked all the doors, turned around, and reached for the backdoor. I just barely got a hold of the handle, pulling with all my might to get it closed. I was too scared to squirm back there and move the blanket; it had to stay. It took a few attempts, but I finally got it to close. I searched for Eber's cell phone, realizing mine was left-back at the apartment. It was attached to his belt, covered in blood. I grabbed it and wiped it off on my pants to clean it the best I could. I pushed the button on the bottom only to find out a password protected it. I didn't have time to figure that out.

The next step was moving Eber’s body out of the driver's seat. I struggled with this both mentally and physically. It felt wrong to abandon his body here, and would I have the strength and speed to shove his body out of the car. My eyes examined the surrounding area. He was out there somewhere waiting to slice me open. I debated if I could move Ebers over to my seat. It started to seem plausible. If I did that, I wouldn't have to risk opening the door to more dangers.

This proved to be a more difficult task than expected, but I was already committed. I grabbed his lifeless arm and jerked as hard I could. His torso plopped over with his head landing in my lap, getting even more blood on me. I hurled forward, letting his head fall in my seat. Disturbing his body like this made me feel terrible, but it had to be done. Then I stretched my leg over him, placing my foot next to his thigh by the driver's seat door. Next, carefully inching my other leg along the same path putting me in a tight spot. Compressed into the door, I used my hands to lift his hip and shoved for what seemed like forever until the rest of his body was out of the seat.

I sat down, thinking it would all be over soon. I started the car and felt glass shatter inside my window, raining all over me. My instincts went into overdrive. I put my arms up to cover my head. Mr. Winslow had broken out the window and tried to stab me. He missed, and the knife cut my hand as he pulled his arm back through. I quickly put the car into drive and pressed the gas pedal. He instantly reached into the car, losing the knife, and grabbed onto my unbuckled seatbelt, trying to pull himself in. The car swerved all over the road. I didn't know how he still held on. I started to think he was indestructible.

I struggled to steer and fight him off simultaneously, and then I remembered Eber's thermos. I searched for it and discovered it was wedged between Ebers and the console. While reaching over for it, Mr.Winslow grabbed the steering wheel and yanked it in his direction. The car swerved to the other side of the road. I turned the wheel back in my direction, hoping he would lose his grip. He still held on; I tried to get my grasp on the thermos once again. I succeeded this time and sought to bash him in the head, missing and conveniently losing my grip, causing the thermos to go out the window.

I began to think my only choice was to crash the car. He would have to let go then. Since he still had a hold of my seatbelt, I imagined if I wrecked the car, I would probably fly through the windshield. I braced myself for impact, then realized Ebers had a gun on his belt. Why hadn't I thought of that sooner? It had been next to me the entire time. Mr. Winslow reached for the steering wheel again but clenched my shirt instead. I tried to grab the gun, which was difficult now with him pulling on me. I struggled to get the weapon free from the belt. Doing my best to drive and get free from his clutches, I got the strap unbuttoned and ripped the gun out of the holster, hoping the safety was off. I pointed it at Mr.Winslow, squeezed the trigger, and prayed the bullet would hit him anywhere.

BANG!

It went off. The noise was so loud my ears started to ring. The recoil thrusted the gun back, striking my nose, my eyes instantly impaired, causing me to swerve even more. Mr.Winslow had been shot. I got him right in the arm. He lost his grip on my shirt and tumbled onto the pavement. I slammed on the breaks and glanced behind me to see him lying in the middle of the road. I decided to back up and run him over multiple times. The final time I drove over him, I made sure to crush his head with the tire. I stopped again, grabbed the gun, got out of the car, aimed it, and shot him in the face. I had to be sure he was dead. His mangled corpse lay on the highway with a puddle of blood pooling out around him.

A truck pulled up behind the car; a confused and fearful older couple got out. I dropped the gun on the ground, then, almost in unison, all of our gazes were drawn to the dead body below our feet. The older woman gasped in horror, then cried out.

“Oh, my heavens! Did you kill that man? We saw you driving by and noticed him hanging from your car. We started following you and informed the police. I only hope they get here soon.”

I could hear the police sirens in the distance, rapidly approaching. I gleamed up at the old lady, and with confidence in my voice, I said...“I defeated him.”

She stared at me with fright in her eyes, cautiously replying.

“Who did you defeat?”

With a disturbingly endless smile on my face, I eagerly answered.

“The Harmony Slasher.”